This Isn't What It Looks Like
by zootycoon346
Summary: No, really, I know it LOOKS like what you're thinking, but really, it's not. I'm not Aida, nor do I know her or her comrades. Well, I dated Jace for a bit, but then he DITCHED me for this Aida hippie. I am an original character! And shut up, just because I like this ONE Eagle, doesn't mean that I don't still think they resemble chickens more! Rated T for pretty (naughty) language!
1. Eagles? Where's the Resemblance?

**** Hey! This is my first Ascension thingy! Read and review - I also accept PMs! Hey, and please tell me if there's any ideas for this story that you have - that would be soooo cool beans!**

They don't really resemble birds much.

I'm staring at one now. To be honest, I'm not that bothered about whether I appear rude or not; at this stage, I'm quite happy to be so. But he doesn't really look like a bird. He looks kind of sad – well, at least he looks sullen with only his green eyes visible.

Sighing, I collapse backward on the damp stone floor. Sure it hurts, but considering the fact that I am now biting myself to occupy the miserly hours, it isn't much. Arms sprawled at careless angles above my head, I look up into the mouldy ceiling. Guess what I see?

No, it's not my hero, not my prince charming come to rescue me on the back of his palomino horse. I've given up on my fantasy blondie now. I was crushing on this daydream for all of two months, but he's been taking such a bloody long time to save me that I've given up on him – yep, you heard me right, we're over.

I see some slime. Khaki drippy gunge that hangs lankly off a misshapen beam, jutting at an irregular angle from the walls. Oh my gosh, shock horror! Not the slime of doom!

Being a prisoner sucks. Especially when your imprisoner is an Eagle. Like I said, where did the name come from? I've been accustomed to them for three and a half months now, and I ain't seen no wings on 'em.

Should I describe myself to you? Well, I'm not sure where to begin. It's been quite some time since I looked in the mirror, so I may have aged dramatically, acquired facial hair or something depressing like that.

I suppose I'm still a girl. I'm still seventeen. I'm still Ann Riven, the beautiful, daring and unshakeable Ann Riven. That's what my boyfriend last said to me. Two years back before he ditched me for some hippie called Aida.

The bah-humbug Eagle is still here, taking a suspiciously long time to refill my water, tighten the knots on my ankles and wrists and top up my rations for today: bread, potatoes and some kind of stringy crap for meat. More carefully, I look at him. His view is downcast to my ankles where he's doing up the precise knots again. I look more intensely at his fingers; shaking, bloodless and fixing the rope rather forlornly.

"Done my wrists yet?" I say sarcastically to him. Instantly, he flinches at his addressing and tumbles backwards into a column.

Lets just say, I haven't laughed like this in a long time. I feel sad when I stop laughing at the Eagle, because he's verily knocked out.

"Oi!" I call, irritated, over to him, "I need some food, you know! What do you take me for, some kind of stick insect? I'll have you know that I'm a _goat _right now!"

Nope. No response. Out cooooold – no, out _freezing_ would be a better word to use.

Brilliant. If an Eagle comes in now, they'll probably think that _I _whacked his lights out; next thing I'll be in chains.

I didn't want to do this. It'll wake him up if I do, and then I won't get chained up, but he'll see me doing it and will probably snitch to another Chicken (Eagle, sorry!) and I'll get less food, most likely. But that's better than chains!

Levering myself up on my elbows, I then wriggled forwards on my belly as far as I can go. And come out of the ropes entirely.

You're probably gaping; if I can escape, then why don't I? Well, it's because outside there's a guard with twenty-five blades arranged neatly down the inside of his armour. So maybe I shouldn't _try _get most of my ribs cracked.

I can escape because they always use the wrong knots. If you twist your feet ninety degrees left twice, ninety degrees right twice, pump your legs up and down like pistons an then curve the balls of your feet at a particular angles, they loosen up enough for you to get out. You do the same thing for your wrists too, only with your arms instead of your legs, duh.

Anyway, here I am, moving towards this unconscious Eagle. And what do I do?

I slap him hard on the face. Thrice.


	2. Apple

"Ahh … oww …?"

The Chicken (a.k.a Eagle) blearily raises his hand to rub his startling pink slap-mark. Oops. Maybe I overdid it. Blinking heavily, his pupils dilate momentarily, and then focus on me.

"Hm?! H … wha!? How did you get ou-!"

For some reason, the last word of his astonished sentence becomes stifled. Possibly it has something to do with my hand that has somehow become shoved against his mouth, but something tells me that it's entirely coincidental. Well, maybe it's just a gut feeling …

I don't give him time to breath.

"Don't say a thing, don't breath a word to anyone, I am still tied up, I am definitely a prisoner, etcetera," I hiss threateningly into his ear, "And I am very, very hungry."

At first he just stares at me. Well, who wouldn't? I glare right back … but my concentration starts to waver. How can somebody have eyes that green? Is it physically possible? I'd trade my boring old brown ones for his vibrant green ones quicker than you can say 'Valond Priestess'! I mean, with no offense to people with brown eyes – I'm sure you're perfectly cute even without brilliant green eyes.

"What'll happen if I don't?"

I'm shockwaved out of my gazing. Horrified, I feel a pink tinge settle over my cheeks. I want to turn away, in sheer embarrassment, for just _looking _at him in such a perverted away. Then again, I shouldn't be blushing – he's only a boring old turkey, right?

"Then …" I mutter, struggling to come up with a good excuse to not grass on my escape method, "Then … then I shall be very disappointed in you."

Oh, drunken dwarves! What a brutal punishment to hand out. My disappointment! I suppose I'll kill him with my death glare, right? Knock him out with my hands-on-hips attack?

"Oh, god, that's severe. Oh, I won't tell anybody anything, don't worry – wouldn't want your _disappointment_," the Eagle grins at me, jade eyes flashing mischeviously. Again, what is the _deal _with those _eyes_? I'm worried I'll go into a trance if I watch them for too long …

"You bet," I nod in mock grimness, sneaking back into my ropes, "Now, tie me up again, won't you? Or do you dare to face my disappointment?"

"Most certainly not, most noble … ?"

"Ann, Ann Riven. And you are my slave …?"

"Well, I'm just a humble servant, my lady," says the Eagle, bowing his head in a parody of modesty, "But my full name is Loren Stone."

Funny, heh? I never thought I'd be exchanging names with a shitty _Turtledove _or whatever it was. He tightened the ropes (again) on my ankles and (again) on my wrists.

"Food?" I said hopefully, perking up to what my stomach had been demanding for a fair few rumblers by now.

"I'll leave it on the plate here. And also, I'll be going now, Lady Riven."

Surprisingly, I'm a little saddened. I guess I haven't had talking company for weeks on end now, and even a Pigeon's company is better than none.

"Right, then. See you, Loren the slave."

I do my best to wave with my hands tied around the back of my head, but promptly fall over. He laughs, waves, and then, just before he goes out, says:

"Yeah, and that dinner of yours looks total cockroach intestines, so I snuck some, like, fruit from the kitchen."

He's gone before I can thank him. I look into the plate. There's a cute little apple sitting there between the other roadkill.

And actually, I think I'd prefer his company rather than eat that apple.


	3. Not the Only Idiot

****Hey there! Thanks, ButterTardis, for all your nice reviews - and for being so dedicated to Doctor Who! To everyone: this chapter's a bit longer than the others, I think, but the language is more frequent and naughtier ;)! It had to be done, though, to build the characters and create the mood. Enjoy!**

Every time a rooster came into my cell, I would carefully examine the colour of their eyes. Not a single green one. Twelve blue eyes, seven grey ones, nine brown ones and two black ones, but not a single one of them as green as Loren's.

But waiting for a vulture is rather tiresome. Soon, I'm back to thwacking against the floor to make myself pass out, just to get through the hours. It's not long before that has occurred three times, each event marked with three lumps on my poor little bonce. Well, maybe not poor. It's been through a few scrapes, this noggin.

In fact, when Loren _does _get his turn to do all the stuff that prisoners get done to, I'm in the middle of trying to achieve unconsciousness.

"My lady, I am extremely sorry for the delay."

I look up far too quickly. Instantly, I feel my temples pulse and my brain swirl. Loren does somersaults right in front of my eyes. I have to bunch my legs up to my head to stop myself fainting; and right when I needed to do so, too!

"You feelin' okay?"

"Guess," I mumble sarcastically, letting myself fall back when the throbbing has died down.

Now, then, if there's one thing that I really didn't have to see, it was what I saw when I raised my head.

"Bloody hell!" I choked, both hands flying to my mouth, "What happened to _you_?! Is _this _the reason for the so-called 'delay'?!"

Prepare yourself. The bloodless skin on his face is gaunt, mottled and bruised, a waterfall of cascading dried blood has frozen is time on one side of his face, while on the other side he has several black eyes overlapping on the _same eye _and a slash mark running down his neck. And if you can't picture that, then just don't try to.

He grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck with his similarly injured arm.

"I'm not gonna say it was no biggie. It bleeding _hurt-"_

"Literally," I butt in angrily.

"Yeah, literally, blood everywhere. But, em, it was all in good cause," he tails off lamely.

I don't want to press him, not in a state like this, and I have _wanted _a 'human, relatable and actually talkative' pheasant to talk to for AGES, but…

"What cause? Save the rainforest? Liths-in-need?" I splutter, forgetting about my splitting headache as I manage to get to a stand (the ropes were off since the start of this chapter, I'm not a mage or anything like that).]

"Ladies-in-need. I wasn't heroic; I didn't know I'd get into _any_ sort of bother over it, but … that apple. The fact I stole it … and gave it to the woman who took out five Eagles … didn't pay off well."

Suddenly, I'm running around the room like some elf possessed, raging and fuming like … well, like some _dwarf _possessed.

"Idioooooot!" I exclaim, hopping as if the slimy floor is made from hot coals, "Idiotidiotidiotidiotidiotidiotidiotidiot!Whatinthefuckwereyouthinkinyouassholeyougottorturedandbeatenupandupandupjust'causeyouwantedtogivemeableeding_apple_thatI'dhavebeenpperfectlyfine_without_gaaahandIthoughtyouweresmart … no, I didn't think you were smart … you passed out when I did as much as _talked _to you …"

"Oi!" Loren flushes red in embarrasement, "I hit my head off solid rock, okay! Not from socialisation!"

"I've been trying to do that all f*cking _day_! You knock yourself out like a _pansy_!" I bellow with all my might.

He's about to retort. But suddenly, there's a deafening CRASH and the twenty-five-daggered guard bursts in.

"Stone! What the hell's happening in here!?" he demands, looking so murderous that if looks could kill, Loren would've died three minutes ago.

"Nought! Just teachin' this scamp a lesson, but y'know, she ain't nothin' to waste it on. Through one ear, out the other. I've done my rounds, so I'll go do some trainin' in the grounds," Loren says roughly, picking up an entirely different accent when talking to the guard; is this so that he fits in better with the others? He talks way softer with me. That kind of cheers me up. Guilty instantly floods me; I've just shouted him down, possibly earned him a whipping, because he's beat up. _I'm _the idiot.

The guard scowls at me.

"For once, you're right, Stone. She's a right bitcher, this one. Killed five of us Eagles, y'know! Bloody menace," he growls. Anger replaces the guilt quicker than a heartbeat – how _dare _he insult me like that!

He's already outside, though, along with Loren. No parting words, no anything, nothing to praise me for mucking up the thing I've been waiting for for so long. Yep. That's me. I'm an idiot.

Three seconds later, I'm banging my head so hard on the floor that I black out fast.

In the bowl, there's a grapefruit.


	4. Truth Behind it All

****Again, thank you, ButterTardis for your wonderful reviews; I have absolutely no idea why I put a grapefruit – it was probably more of a gut feeling, you know? Anyway, there is one word of strong language in here, but I had to put it down for reasons that any dedicated author should know. Read and review!**

Next time I see him, I don't shout. I don't even talk. I just hold up the grapefruit, which has now gone off and has softened inside and out. I stare at him.

"What?" Loren exclaims after five minutes had snailed by and nothing had been said, "They were going to give it to the bloodhounds anyway; it was just leftovers!"

"You're so _full _of yourself!" I cry out suddenly, "What makes you think you'll get away with it _this _time!?"

Hands still redoing the ropes that bind me, he hesitates.

"I don't think I'll get away with it … it's just 'cause it's funny," he smirks.

"Funny!"

I'm outraged. It is most certainly NOT funny! What kind of twisted weirdo gets themselves whipped to the bone for a JOKE?!

"Well, maybe not _funny,_" Loren rewinds hastily, "It's more _revenge _on the fact that I have _nothing _to lose …"

That stops me in my retorting plans.

"Wait … so you don't _want _to be an Eagle?" I realise softly.

Again, what on earth is going on with those eyes? Is he crying? Wait – no, he's not. His emerald eyes are just shiny because he's … angry?

"_Duh _I don't want to be an Eagle! I _hate _Eagles! I was _forced _into this because … because they threatened to kill my little s-sister …"

Okay, now he's crying. I really shouldn't have said that. Jerk Of The Year award clearly describes _me_.

"Um … um, well you did become an Eagle, so they won't have killed her," I try to say with one hundred percent faith.

And I bet he only replies because I forced myself not to put a hopeful _'right?' _on the end.

"How should you know?" Loren shivers, "I don't know. Nobody knows. I just want to see her again … if I get out of here alive."

"You must really love her," I smile, wishing that I have family to dote on like Loren does.

Without warning, he stands up from his kneel, and makes to walk out of the room.

"Hey!" I say, annoyed, "Don't you walk out on _me _like th-"

"Of course I love her. She's only eight months old."

Ice replaces all the roadways of blood in my veins. Of course, of course _of course_ he didn't want to be a partridge.

What kind of bastard threatens to kill your baby sister?

And, even though I can bellow at him for leaving a pineapple in the dish this time as he's just on the cusp of departure, I feel such _misery _for him that I don't.

Hey, how on earth could someone steal a whopping _pineapple_?


	5. Rainbows Yet No Puppy Dogs

I'm still missing both purple and green.

Okay, okay. So beat me. I've already had my weekly interrogation, and I only just escaped an infuriated turtledove's whipping because Loren quickly intervened with some parrot's birthday cake. Birthday cake? Fowls have birthday cakes? Hey, now even _I'm _considering becoming an Eag- no, wait, I'm not. Loren's last words still echo around my brain, springing a new well of pain with each reverberating BAM!

But yeah, back onto the subject of missing colours.

"Yo, my feathered friend, you seen any purple shmurples around here?" I say, heavily bored, to the quail that heeds my needs. Ooh, _heeds my needs_! I could become the most awesome poet in Arunia! Yeah, that's right, I'll knock all 'em high and mighty elves off their pretty little clean pedestals (yeah, you might've noticed; I don't like elves).

"What the hell are you on about now, warthog?" sighs the canary unhelpfully. I could probably have done without the latter comment.

"God, I'm complimented. And in return, I'll praise you with the grand title _slug king_. That's right, you ooze along now, mollusc."

Now he's just ignoring me. Guess I can't blame him. I mean, at least I didn't hit a nerve on one of the vainer asses; they'd have had my guts for garters.

He leaves pretty soon after, without a single pointer in the direction of a purple object. Nice.

I've had red, on my list of colours-of-the-whole-bloody-rainbow in my head, as well as orange, yellow, blue, pink, brown, black, grey and white. It was a suggestion from Sir Stone himself (my newfound nickname for Loren) that I find all the colours of the rainbow while waiting for his arrival. He had said he'd come again today, at around evening. Right now, the golden sun was drooping wearily, slipped three-quarters down the pinking sky.

That was pink, the sky, by the way, and also yellow, the sun. I also counted the sun as orange as it was halfway between the two colours anyway.

Red was my blood. Hey, I've been accustomed to seeing it running away from me before. It was a little unnerving having me bite myself a few months ago, a dare from my inner devil. I mean, why would my _own blood _run away from me? It was a philosophical question, in my totally un-philosophical mind, and I didn't like it. But yeah.

Orange, as I've said before, was for the sun, as well as yellow. Blue for the veins running rivers down the inside of my wrist. Pink for the end-of-day sky outside the heavily barred, tiny window – the window is as big as three of my heads lined up next to each other; not a very pleasant imagine for me, but at least you can get some idea of the limited vista around these parts (i.e. my cell). Black for my hair … well, actually no, it's an extremely dark brown, but I cheat soooo much anyway that it doesn't make a difference, plus, people think it's black anyway, so ha. Brown for my ochre eyes, grey for the walls and white for my skin, pretty much. So where's the purple, and where's the green?


	6. Its Not for the Want, but for the Need

"Did you find them all?"

Swiftly, he knots the bindings with the most complex fingering manoeuvres yet (probably to buy more time to talk) and refills the water and food at the speed of light; yet again, there's another fruit at the bottom. Today, a plum. I've given up on yelling at him already.

"Ah … hey, I found _nine _already. I even found _pink_," I say as if he has been criticising on the fact that I didn't find two of them, "That's pretty good."

"In the space of five hours?" he scoffs, "I think not! Surely you'd have been able to find them all, and I thought you might even move on to multicolours, or maybe more obscure colours, like silver, or heliotrope!"

"Well _A_, I slept for three hours, _B_, I can't really see much of a view from here and _C_, how the hell was I supposed to find green and purple?!"

Now comes the twist. I'd kind of guessed it coming on from the beginning – you could see the devilish gleam in those brilliant eyes of his – but I thought he'd just brought me a watermelon or maybe an aubergine this time, but no.

"Well, I thought about it, and I figured that you might get caught up on those two … so …"

He holds up the plum from the dish and points to his eyes.

"… I bought this plum, and myself!"

He grins as if this is very clever of him, which, of course, it is.

"I can see why they wanted _you _as a chickadee … um, Eagle … no offense intended," I smirk.

"Yeah."

Deep in thought, I munch vacantly on my plum, unaware that I am being watched closely.

"You're alright with it, then."

"Hm?"

I'm snapped out of my daydreaming abruptly. Loren is looking at me so intently that it's embarrassing.

"You're alright with the fact I'm an Eagle, right?"

I don't even pause. My lines have been learned off by heart. It was going to have been asked sometime, but I'd already told myself the answer a long time ago. With days to yourself in a lonely jackdaw's basement, you find yourself thinking over things you never thought you'd briefly _know _about – before they took you away, of course. They said they were imprisoning me with 'justified cause' … to hell they were **not**.

"'Course I'm fine and dandy with all that stuff," I smile back, taking him off guard, "I mean, if I wasn't, I wouldn't even let you within seven inches of me – unless you were just doing the routine – without kicking your ass until it went bright helio … helotrop … no, halotrope?"

Cursing myself for trying to be such a smarty-pants, I turn to Loren for help. He grins widely, obviously fully prepared to succeed where I have failed.

"It's _heliotrope_. It's a kind of bluey-purply colour, I think. The first time I went to Ildis-"

"Hang on, you went to _Ildis_? The land of the moonies?" I cut in, astonsished, "I almost _envy _you! Except I don't of course, because elves are the drippiest vain skinny bums in the whole of Arunia. They just have nice shops. I'm gonna go there one day."

To this, of course, he laughs. Not loudly, not a belly-laugh, more of a snigger. But not a snigger. I hate that word, plus he's not mocking me. Using the word _snigger _makes it sound as if he's Draco Malfoy, which, of course, he's not. Maybe _chuckle _or _chortle _are better phrases, but now he would sound like an old man, and I can guess that he's at least twenty one. Maybe he's _snickering_? That's a combination of the two, right? Or _snuckling_? Yes, he's snuckling. What an amazing word.

"Go there?" he snuckles, "_You_? Well, sorry to burst your _bubble_, but you can't really go out and see the world in your locks and chains. Why are you even barred up here anyway? I want a compelling case."

"You want compelling? You got compelling. Story of my life in a nutshell; lived nice and happy with my beautiful mama and my handsome papa and my darling baby brother until the wicked witches came in the forms of Eagles. Poor daddy owed them some money, but he hadn't had his payday yet. You know what they did? Ooh, they got _angry_ mister, very _angry_. Death threats, blackmail, blah blah blah. Then they took it too far and took Baby Bro as a hostage. Well, Big Sis didn't like it. You follow? Big Sis got UBER angry. Big Sis killed the bastards who kidnapped Baby Bro. Tragic Magic – them Eagles murdered my family. Baby Bro was slaughtered. Mama and Papa got worse. Never saw 'em again. Went crazy, killed about another four of 'em until one banged me on the head, then banged me up in here. So there, story over. I hate fucking Eagles."  
I'm crying. I know it. It's so stupid, and I've been here long enough to get over it too. Tears keep on welling up until they threaten to spill over like hot wax, but I can't have that. I will fight strong under Evan's name, under Mother's name, under Father's name, under the whole of my history's name. And there's no time for weeping while you're doing that, right?

"That's sick. That's sick, that's sick. Monsters. Monsters! I thought I had it bad, but I've had heaven. I … I really feel sorry for you. It's not pitiful, it's just natural. Your brother … he wasn't really … ugh, that's … that's just …"

No no no don't cry now don't cry you musn't cry stay strong don't fall don't give in.

"Uhh … if you … if you could escape … if you could escape, what would you do next? Where would you go?"

"I can't go anywhere. I can't escape. You know that," I mutter in an even a voice as I can muster.

"That's not true."

"What do you-"

If there isanything I expect to interrupt me, it certainly isn't a hug. I'm not sure … do I want a hug? A hug from an Eagle? But he's not an Eagle, he's not one of them. So … maybe it's okay to hug back like I'm doing now?

"It's not a case of wanting a hug," Loren whispers into my hair, "It's a case of needing one."

**I'm really sorry that I haven't updated for so long, but with an awesome half-term following a stressful six weeks, I've just been exhausted. And I'm still exhausted. But by this time, I thought it would be cool to ramp up the intimacy a notch or two between Loren and our heroine. Read and Review – and thanks a lot, ButterTardis, for all your support ;) **

**XXX**


	7. I'm Going to Kill Him

Fresh air caresses my poor pale face. Fresh air! I know, right? So what if it's fresh Eagle air, air is air, and to be honest, I've only inhaled it in my dreams of late.

"This is impossible! I can't believe it!" I squeal, dancing around on the spot despite my aching limbs and complaining abdomen.

"Nothing's impossible. This was scheduled anyway," Loren smiles.

Of course he's right there. But if he's a real friend, then I don't care if he sees my random boogie of joy. Random boogieing was SOOO big, in the Dwarven taverns that I occasionally dipped into in my early teens. But then, it could just have been because they were literally_ that _drunk … Oh, who even _cares_?! I'm outside, and the world is hugging me so tight I can scarce _breath_! Naturally, nothing compares to a Loren hug, but then that was the first human contact I'd had in months. Human contact! God, the very thought scares me.

"Scheduled? You mean the Eagles couldn't stand me being cooped up in there any longer? Really?" I sputter, my jig halting in its tracks.

"Yup. You might die, I guess, if you don't get exercise for so long. I think you get this regular exercise for a few weeks from now on. New regime; there's this geezer called Diego in charge now."

Diego? Well, whatever, did this new leader have an ounce more moral than the last? Obviously so. Or it could just be the build-up to something worse.

"You're not exactly free either," Loren reminds me, "So you can't say whatever you want to, even out here."

Ah, only true. It sucks that there's about a half-dozen Eagle thugs stationed around the training yard. That's them, the stuck up loony perverts ogling me on top of the wall that borders the grounds.

"Don't you get too friendly with the girl, Stone!" shouts a swan from the left, sniggering as he continues, "One would think you _fancy _the prisoner!"

A couple more chickadees guffaw at the last comment. Ooh, _nice_! Now let's all go gave a _simply spiffing cup of tea _while we're at, my good chaps? I really don't know why, nor do I want to, it stirs my kickass blood.

"I can hardly see_ you _uglies as anyone but _loners_, b*stards!" I yell back, which of course takes them off guard completely. Prisoners around this dump aren't exactly full of energy, and even the guards are too flat out to retort properly.

"You're in LOVE!" they yell back, laughing maddeningly, "LOREN and the UGLY!"

Pure children. They're spitting insults like _eight year olds. _My _grandmother_, if she was still alive, would be able to insult better than them! Come to think of it though, all of the Riven bloodline are decent at verbal aggression. And physical aggression.

I remind myself of that as I march right up to one of them and slug him in the face.

"Ann!?" Loren yells, trying to sound thoroughly shocked, but I can still hear that inkling of admiration.

And, of course, that inkling spurs me on to punch him in the gut as well, before Loren's sturdy arms swoop down over me and he hauls me away.

"Manservant!" I shriek, having just decided on a new nickname for him, "Let me at 'em! My fists are gonna fly until they spit blood!"

"There'll be nothing for your fists to fly at by that time. See – look, they've run off!"

I turn my head around hesitantly, suspicious that it's just a trick to get me to stop beating everything within a two-metre radius of me.

It is. They're still there. Roaring their heads off with laughter. Pointing and jeering, at weak little me. A hot-headed toddler who needs supervision. Loren is the supervisor. He's the one who's caused my mockery. I hate this. I hate getting laughed out. I can't deal with this. Why don't they just stop laughing?! Stop! STOP!

Loren refuses to let me free. He doesn't even flinch when I start to assault him. What's worse is, he walks back into my cell with me still trapped as well.

When he's freed me, I slap him hard on the face. Thrice.

"Oww?! What the hell, Ann?!" he splutters, stunned. My flushed face, furiously twinkling eyes and bunched fists are answer enough.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!" I scream right in his face, pushing him so violently that he staggers into a column, trips on a coil of rope and ends up on the ground. It's the same column as when I slapped him.

"Oh, I don't know …" he whispers, clambering to his feet. He's kept his voice dangerously silky and delicate, but I feel in no way safe, "How about … saving your life?"

"Saving my life?!" I shout, blind with rage and humiliation, "You don't know what you're talking about!"

Suddenly, I'm gone. Passed. Inaccessible from this world. In a dimension of my own. Time doesn't exist there. I just have to act on impulse. Act recklessly.

I kick Loren down, hard in the stomach. Feel the rough weave against the palm of my hand as I slip the coil of rope he's just tripped on through my fist. Relive utter torment as the Eagles laugh at me, lips twisted in ugly sneers. Hear the cries of torture. Venom leaks into my boiling veins, and I step forward. I can barely see Loren amongst splodges of red in my vision. It's still rope in my hand, but it's something else too, now. A _weapon_. Revenge.

I take another step. My foot trembles and threatens to slip from underneath me, but I won't allow it. No more humiliation. I come from proud people. I will _never _be insulted like that again. Not until my darkest hour. My pupils flex like my fingers over the lash. Loren's blinking, come back to his senses. His eyes find me. There's an emotion in them I've never seen before, not in anyone's.

Pity.

I hate it. But I can't stop it, and I want it too. His eyes are so green. I want more of his eyes. Any emotion would be fine in those by me.

My right foot comes down as heavily as my breathing. Livid. I've never felt like this before. My limbs ache, my heart on the verge of exploding. Loren's saying something, but I can't hear it. I can only hear the laughter, ringing in my ears. I hate that, too. I hate everything.

_Why can't it all just stop?!_

The final footfall comes silently. I have the whip in my hand, and I'm going to kill him. I've killed Eagles before. I'll do it again. He says he's not an Eagle, but he's just like the rest. I hate Eagles. I hate him. I am going to do it. I am going to kill.

I haven't known him for very long. Not long enough to become _attached_. For if I was attached to him, this would be harder, right? But even breathing seems hard at the moment. I raise the rope. We're not friends. I barely know him. All I know is, his eyes are really green. It's an emerald colour. I like it.

Something's wrong. The rope slips out of my hand. My eyes are focusing and refocusing too fast. Breathing is strained. The world is silent. Crimson stains my eyes. Loren gazes at me, concerned, on his knees. His lips are moving, but I can't hear anything anymore, just a swirling tempest of blood pounding on my eardrums.

Then the light goes out and I collapse.

**An extra long one for ButterTardis! You've been waaaay too patient! **

**I'll admit to feeling scared writing the last few paragraphs. I hate doing this to Ann and Loren; I love them too much. It's not fair on them. I'll take this chance to apologise to them:**

**Ann: What on ****_earth_****?! NOW you're apologising?! You've banged me up in jail, messed up my hair (I love my hair), killed half my family and made me nearly kill Loren?! I think this apology is a little overdue, missy!**

**Loren: Yeah! What she said! Just skip all these dumb arguments and near-death situations until a kiss scene! More kiss scenes!**

**Ann: What he s- wait, WHAT?! LOREN!? WHAT DID YOU SAAAAAY?!**

**xxx**


	8. Love's the Best Medicine - and Corniest!

_"… But that's ridiculous!"_

_"I ain't the one settin' 'em, boy. You better talk to Diego 'bout that."_

_"Am I the only one around here with an ounce of human decency?! Prisoner or not, can't you see all that blood?!"_

_"She'll survive. Possibly."_

_"Look here; no, look at me. Seriously. Yeah. I've got a fist. Fancy a knuckle sandwich?"_

_"I hear 'ere's also 'the lash' on the menu t'night."_

Suddenly, a ricocheting BANG kicks my senses back into reality. My vision hazes into focus, finding me half on the floor, half in Loren's arms. The second half forms a rosy tinge over my cheeks, and at the same time tells me to pretend not to have awoken. I scan the two fighters (Loren and another stronger, hairier Eagle) before squeezing my eyes shut so tight a mouse's toenail couldn't penetrate.

"Bloody hell!" roars Loren, and I can really hear the anger in his voice, "Now is _not_ the time!"

Another petrifying crack lets fly a yell from Loren. Pain whips my torso in a tornado of agony too. I can feel the cold fluid start to pool on my body, but I manage only to release a moan. _Ha_. Now I could still be out cold. I want to hear what they don't think I'll hear, 'cause I'm a cunning minx like that, huh. I allow the pain to seep into me, let it ensnare me, promising that I can scream the place down afterwards it hurts so much.

"F*ckin' – you trying to _kill_ her now, oaf?! What good'll _that_ do?!"

Good. Loren doesn't want me dead. Even though _I_ tried to kill him before. I let the memory slip for the moment, and give it a shove deep into the regions of my brain that no one has ever come out alive from.

The sound of ripping fabric follows, and then the fresh wound inflicted is dabbed. Gently. Bandaging ensues. Thank-you Loren. Why did I ever try to hurt him? Why kill a friend?

He's a friend. I'll say it now. I'm not sure that I have any left but for him.

"Dunno what you're playing at, Stone, but … she ain't seein' no doctor, that's for sure."

I take this as my cue and bolt straight upright.

"Excuse me, mister, but hospitalisation sounds good right now. You certainly haven't done wonders to my complexion either. I'm thinking of compensation up to a _gazillion _bits of gold. Has someone called for the nurse? I can't say no to aspirins today," I whisper with a grin curling my lips, my eyes snapping open.

Both men seem utterly astonished. They don't retaliate when I brush the dust off my arms and legs and climb out of Lorens hold. I glance over both of them with raised eyebrows. Probably, they've gone into early hibernation. Something like that anyway. I take all the time in the world to look over my current situation, and compare it to recent history.

I got mad. I went beserk. I tried to kill Loren. I blacked out. I woke up. I got whipped. Yowch.

I study the weapon that gave out the lashing, still in the hairy seagull's hairy hand. Blood dirties the weaving. I take it from his grasp, hold it at arms length, and chuck it out the nearest window. Now I look at their expressions.

Except I can't really see a lot of them because Lorens' grabbe a fistful of my shirt, and I'm sort of in the air right now.

"_Loren_!?" I manage to choke out (he's blocking my windpipe a bit now), "_What_ _the_ … !?"

He's raising his hand. I swallow, but my throat remains dry. The individual fingers are bunching into a fist. My eyes widen, but I daren't look at him. I can't deserve that much as of now. I stare at the fist, imagine it uncurling, but no. He's going to punch me. Or slap me. I don't know which. I _want _him to do either. I need some kind of _punishment_. Retainment. Confinement. I need to know my limits, and he needs to teach me his. I've just kicked him, really, _really_ hard. In the gut. And then I … threatened? I threatened him? Yes … yes, I did lots of that. I also … walked a bit … I walked a bit _menacingly_. Oh god, yes, the menacing walk! He needs to _slap_ me. Super hard. On the face.

_Ten … nine … eight … seven … two _... five?

I never learned my numbers properly. I never went to school. My family was too poor, and baby bro needed me. Mum couldn't handle him on his own, now, could she? She was ill. _Terminally_. Dad had to work. I tried as much work as I could, but wherever I applied, I was turned down, with only one exception. Apparently, they could get arrested for child cruelty, or slavery, or pernickety like that in these dark days. So I went to the Wandering Tree … I know, right? Stupid name. How could a tree _wander? _But I was welcomed with warm arms. I remember that street, all the people, from Annisa the tailor, to the hairy blacksmith next door. That's where I met Jace, in that odd old pub. I think that was the first time I fell in love.

I swore I would never do it again.

Slapping doesn't hurt. Nor does punching. At least, Loren's punching and slapping doesn't. He's scarcely touching me, he's literally _brushing _me. He's being _gentle_. How could you _gently slap _someone. Loren's so weird. I squeeze open my eyes.

"Ann … I love you …"

**OMIGOD OMIGOD I'M SO AMAZING?! DOES ANYONE WANT A TRAGEDY?! I DON'T! TELL ME IF YOU DO! I MIGHT DO IT … BUT I LOVE HAPPY ENDINGS! I FEEL … LIKE I COULD EXPLODE! HA HA HA! I'M DEMENTED!  
Oh yeah, and as always, thanks ButterTardis! ;P!**


	9. Oh Bummer

Ow.

I haven't said 'ow' for a long long time now. Not because I haven't had the need (let me tell you, I have!), but because I've had a reputation to keep. Being the kickass stubborn hostage without emotion.

Ow.

The reputation's gone downhill.

"Thass right," a voice sniggers from the darkness, "Ow! _Ow! _You poor, pretty little princess … where's your Prince Charming now?"

I spit blood from my mouth, aiming near the voice, but I haven't enough strength. Red spatters my legs. Not that I care. By the time this is over, myself and I are going to little holiday. In the sun. Very warm. Sundrop island? No.

To the incineration pit.

"I'm single," I say defiantly, "The life of a princess is busy enough as it is."

Ow. Ow. Ow.

"You think you're all high and mighty, don't you? You think you're better than everyone else, huh?"

The man steps out of the darkness in heeled boots. Heeled? Yes. He obviously thinks _he's _the Prince Charming … but we both know who he's referring to. We both know that this fantasy blondie, all the way from chapter one (keep up!) is the reason I'm here.

Getting whipped to death.

I sigh.

"Do I _really _have to answer that? Because yes, even _now _I look a damn sight better than _you_, ugly."

The eyes glint. He taps the stone floor softly with the balls of his feet, looking back into the shadows. Echoes dance along at his toes. Silence. Even _I've _stopped breathing.

He twists back, a vulgar grin screwing his lips into something very _Vogue_. Well. If you count the _gargoyle_ edition.

"See?" he says, "Nobody there. _Uh-oh_!"

"Don't need no-one," I repeat.

Again, his eyes flash. This time he acts. By which I mean, he draws back his arm and lashes me with the whip in his arm. I flinch, trying to escape, but it's useless. I'm a few feet from the ground, chained to a wall with heavy metal-shackles that are bolted into the stone itself. They've stripped me of any clothing that looks protective. Now I'm wearing something that resembles a nightie, but the lingering scent of blood warns me otherwise.

SUDDEN! So SUDDEN! The ice-cold agony to shatter even water, and then the fire that sears me incapable of anything but _screaming … _and by God do I scream. I'm in so much pain, so much torture, that my head wants to explode and then reform to explode again. It's crazy, and my life is whirling and swirling like a hurricane. There's no time to recover before he _smotes _me on the side so hard I'm crying. Crying. Fat tears dribble down my bloody face. They pool on the also bloodied ground below. I shake and shake, my whole body quivering. It's sick. It's all sick. Bile rises in my throat, but there ain't any lunch coming up. I'm gonna die. I know it and I cry harder. My eyes close and I go on my side, curling up into a fetal curl. Blood flows in rivers down my arms and spine, my stomach and legs.

Torture never felt so damn _good_.

"Kill me then," I spit, retching slightly. A molar dislodges. Don't give a fuck.

"No," he says, rolling the word around in his mouth, savouring it, "I think we're gonna give it a bit of time to really _settle in_. You know how it goes."

I'm gonna die anyway. The both us know that. Me, Ann Riven, him, the Eagle bastard. I can't even think of any names for birds.

It bites. Poison. I cry out, tears spurting and splashing against the walls. It's his fault, that guy, the 'non' Eagle, but I don't even _dislike_ him. No. He's my only friend. I love him … but not in the way that he wants. I hate myself for doing it to him, but I could _never_ love again.

Because I'm a coward.

This pain is worse, though, than love. This can't be put into words.

Ripping.

Tearing.

Screams through darkness.

Scarring.

Wounding.

Screams through light.

Smashing.

Pummelling.

Screams through dusk.

Knocking.

Blowing.

Screams through dawn.

Hitting.

Slapping.

Screams through day.

Tapping.

Poking.

Screams through night.

Slipping.

Falling.

Darkening.

Going.

Gone …

**I'm sorry, guys … maybe there WON'T be a happy ending after all! Well, for ME there is, because Lucinda M. H. Cheshir is now reviewing and following! Thank-you so much, Lucinda! So that makes nine reviews, four follows and two faves! That's a record for me, guys! I dunno what you think of this chapter, but I rewrote it (whole thing through) THREE TIMES which is MAJOR for me! Yeah! First was Loren's point of view, then another, and now it's back to Ann's. It was really fiddly. Tell me if you'd like a Loren POV after all!**

**As always, thanks to the lovely Chloe (i.e. ButterTardis, which is a bit of a mouthful and I'm in a bit of a hurry).**

**XX**


	10. Desperation

It's regular now.

My timetable's all filled in, and my hope's all filled out.

I think this might the end.

I didn't want to believe it at first, but now I know for sure.

I can barely mouth the words.

Don't think I have much of a mouth _left_.

Can't feel the pain, thank God.

It's all numb.

But I don't know whether it's still hurting or not.

I can make out the blood with (most of) my eyes.

I've never seen so much.

I'd be sick, but I haven't the strength to even retch.

And I haven't eaten since two days back.

I've had water.

I'd die without it.

_They _want to kill me.

At this stage, I'd kill myself.

But there isn't a knife spare.

Maybe they've used them all on Loren.

I don't know.

He'd be punished too.

It's his fault.

He's to blame.

He's the one who did this to me.

And I won't forgive.

My love is mine to give.

It's not for sale.

If he hadn't said it …

… I might have lived.

At first, I thought I might be saved.

I thought, maybe he'd come to my rescue.

But he isn't.

And he hasn't

I thought, '_It'll be okay'_.

It's always okay.

But it's not this time.

And nothing can save me.

He was meant to be my friend.

He didn't mean this.

But if he cared about me truly …

… he wouldn't have even thought it.

Does he know how much it hurts?

Really?

I'm dying, Loren, I'm dying.

Maybe I'm already dead.

I haven't thought about that yet.

I'm crying.

I don't wanna die.

I haven't seen my children.

Haven't seen my grandchildren.

Haven't made a family.

Haven't completed anything.

Never swam that ocean.

Never scaled that peak.

Never rode like the wind.

Never felt so weak.

I don't think I'm dead.

I think I'm going to be dead.

I think the end is near.

It's stronger now.

There's someone coming.

No, _something_.

Mr Grim?

No.

No, it's a man.

He's familiar.

It's the way he walks.

He's saying something.

I don't know what.

Now he's reaching for me.

I recoil, pushing into the wall.

He gently moves his lips next to my ear.

I could never have imagined what came next.

"The beautiful, daring, unshakeable Ann Riven. You haven't forgotten me, have you?"

**Anybody worked it out? *****_Ahem_***** … I mean, thanks for reading! And now Wolfie1236 has reviewed! Thank-you so much! I tell you, I get such a ****_buzz_**** when someone new reviews XD! Okay, whatever. And I really don't know if she's gonna die or not. Still thinking it over. I like her. She's a good character to work with. I'd probably start crying if I killed her off. **

**So, thanks Chloe and Lucinda now! I don't know Wolfie's name! I'll just call you Wolfie!**


	11. Jumbled Up

**May I just take this oppurtunity to say, yes, in case you read the chapter that used to be here, this is a replacement. I didn't like the old one. It was rushed. Too many loose ends. This story is probably doomed ... review and tell me how to continue :'(! *Desperately claws computer and cracks the screen* ... okay, I went too far ...**

Jace is standing here in front of me, and for the first time in my life, I don't know what to do.

I'd thought it through in the months spent chained up: if my boyfriend ever showed up again, I'd slap him in the face. Thrice.

But I did that to Loren. Wouldn't be very creative to do the same thing twice. Besides, now that he's here … I can't believe how much I've missed him. Even his _shoes_. Like, _shoes_. I'd always complained about how they looked on him, that he wore them down too much. Now, everything is upside down.

Why is he even _here_?

He reaches out for me again, to pick the lock on the chains, but I just shake my head. Again. And again.

There's no way he could be here. He _left _without a word. L-E-F-T. I don't want _him _back!

"Ann," he says in a low voice, pain in his eyes, "I swear I'm not going to hurt you. I _swear_. Everything will make sense soon. Now, you wanna get out of these chains, or am I gonna get Tilly to shrink you?"

Tilly? Shrink? I've never met someone called Tilly before, and I didn't know that_ anyone _could shrink me.

He reaches out for me. I strain at the chains with whatever strength I have left. I'm delirious. I know it.

Everything's tainted with red. Blurred. Incomprehensible. End don't connect. It doesn't make _sense._

_I wish Loren was here_.

I try to deny it. I do, I really do. But it's true, I want him here, because he's my _friend._ He'd sort it all out. He'd make sense of it all. He'd _explain it all_.

The man in front of me, the man who doesn't exist, pushes me aside. Gently.

I scream out in pain.

Fire blazes up my entire body, my muscles convulsing, blood spurting. I claw at Jace, trying to get him away, to make him stop, but I only end up stroking at him. My strength is gone, and yet I feel like death.

Death is good. Death makes SENSE. Death is welcoming. Death is COLD. I need cold. I need lots of cold. Tears stream down my cheeks, sparking yet more torture, but it's not the right cold. It's _lukewarm_. I need COLD. COLD.

Jace catches hold of one of my flailing arms and grips it. His hand is HOT. I want COLD. I can't tell if it's my left or my right because I'm FALLING. He's trying to catch me but he can't REACH because I've FALLEN.

He HAMMERS at the STEEL with his FISTS and it DoEsN't WoRk. I CrY oUt BuT I'Ve SuNkEn ToO fAr DoWn AnD i'M oN tHe SeAfLoOr. hE wOn'T bE aBlE tO rEaCh Me NoW. Ha hA Ha hA.

I'm GoNnA dIe AnD i WaNnA dIe iT's GoNnA bE fUn

I wAnNa DiE aNd Go To HeAvEn AnD mEeT mY fAmILy onCe AGAin BeCauSe i neED tO TeLl tHEM that I lOVe ThEm SO mUCh

i NEEd sOmeOnE to Love

sOmethINg to GIvE mE tHe StReNgTh to Go oN

it ain't comin'

i know that now

jace may be here

but he can't see

i need the willpower to go on

i think i'm gonna wake up now

i hate this dream

i hate this life

i only wanna die

and i'm sorry, baby bro

and i'm sorry, mum, dad

and i'm sorry, loren, you too

but this is how i go

and buttertardis, wolfie and lucinda

i guess you think I'm fiction

but still you come back

and daisy

come out of those shadows

review or something

tell me you're following

whatever

this isn't part of the story

ignore all those lines

i'm gonna die

gotta make it compelling

ha

ha ha ha

ha ha ha ha ha h a ha

it's a dream

its all a dream

because we are dead

and we will die

you cannot live

in life

only die

only live

in dreams

where you are who you are

and you can do anything

i'll die

i'll die

and now

goodbye

…

bye-bye

…

**Sorry. I killed off the main character. Possibly. I won't be able to live with myself now … So, was it all a dream? Or not? Wait (im)patiently for the next issue to find out.**

**I think I'll do it from Loren's point of view next time.**

**Yeah.**

**It's gonna rule.**

**xx**

**(P.S Daisy, I was serious. If you don't review … I'll destroy dragons forever! Or kill Loren! (Either one, though probably the one from Unrealmeth … although I already killed him … aw …)**

**(P.P.S Anyone who isn't Daisy will not understand a word of what I just wrote. Good. Let's keep it that way.)**


	12. His Two Lips

It wasn't a dream.

I awaken inside a tent. Daylight filters through my eyelids, forcing me into consciousness. Maybe I'm in heaven. Though my bones ache, and my muscles refuse, I make to move upwards. Instantly, pain floods my brain and freezes up my body. I collapse again, swearing.

Still alive.

I don't know where I am. It doesn't scare me, doesn't even interest me in particular, but it's a fact, and the fact is that I'm not getting tortured anymore. Maybe they got bored.

Something tells me it wasn't a dream.

I don't know. I was semi-conscious.

Not sure if I even care if it was a dream or not. All I know now is that … well, that I'm alive. That's a good thing.

I try to move again. Twenty more bones snap and I give up. There can't be nobody there … right? _Right_?

My brain dances, thinking up worst-case scenarios. I hate them all. '_They'_ being the Partridges, they could have abandoned me. _Marooned_ me, even. I'm in a tent. It doesn't rule out the possibility, so I prop myself up on my elbows and scan my surroundings for anything else.

There's a mortar and grindstone beside the pole holding up the middle of the tent. I think there's some powder inside. I ain't gonna touch it. A wooden bowl holding water lies next to my bed. Bed. Haven't lain in a bed in … years. Sad. It's not, like, a proper bed or anything, just a couple of animal skins on the floor and a few blankets draped over me. And someone's bag for a pillow.

I open up the bag, which is the most that my body can handle right now. There's nothing useful inside, just stuffing to make it more like a pillow. Thoughtful owner. I'd like to meet them.

There's something else over in the corner. Something _draws_ me to it, but I can't move. It's quite small, and round. I can't help but dream that it's food, and thus set my stomach alight. I want it. I _want_ it. My curiosity won't hold for much longer. Oh, by the _Gods_ …!

I haul myself up. It's actually quite a struggle. I chance a look at my body, see all the binding and dried blood, and look up again. It'll be a while before I heal, but the scars will always serve as a memory. As a _reminder_.

Someone has dressed me. I wear a leather tunic trimmed with sheepswool. And trousers, likewise leathery. I still bear my bloodstained nightie underneath.

I can see it now. Internally, I was screaming up until now, but now the pain washes away. I don't know why, but I'm suddenly … _happy_. I feel like I'm going to cry, as well. I don't understand. It's such a mixed emotion … and I don't know whether to fly into a rage, or start laughing. Something has stirred in my memory, but I just cannot _place_ it. I don't know what to do. I stay here, transfixed, kneeling in front of it.

_In front of the apple._

And then I realise. My hand reaches out, my lips trembling slightly. Slowly, so slowly, I turn it around. I see it. A note. On the back.

_"Stop slapping me."_

"_Loren_! _Loren_!"

It hurts so bad. My chest burns with a searing pain, already I'm out of breath, my legs could buckle any second and I feel like crap.

"**_LOREN_**!"

It's _him_. He's back. I want to see him desperately, but … but I'm also scared. Or could my heart only hammer so because I'm racing like this?

The last time we had seen each other … he had said that thing. '_The'_ thing. I couldn't even reply before we had been torn apart by Hairy Seagull guy. Loren had fought. He had fought so bad. He had _tried_.

But it didn't work, and I was brought away and tortured. It's not … _him_ to blame, though. I forgive him. I forgive him. I hadn't heard those words ever before. Not even from _Jace_. He loved me as much as I loved him … but he had never said something like that. He _flirted_. Never sober. Not even the Jace from the dream had said that … from the dream that wasn't a dream.

I'm so confused it's painful.

Or is that only because I'm racing like this?

"_Ann_?!"

Yes. Yes. That's his voice! That's his voice! I could listen to his voice for a million years, and he'd let me! I've never really had a friend like this before.

"**_LOREN_**!"

He's there. He's there. In a clearing. Ahead. I'm running through woodland now, getting torn to bits by brambles. I left the safety of the tent a while ago. But Loren's here now. Mouth agape. The logs in his arms falling onto the ground.

His eyes have never been greener.

I throw myself at him like a tornado of crazy desire.

"Ann?!" Loren cries, "You shouldn't be _up_! Agh …!"

I've missed him so much. I haven't even realised it up until now. I hug him so tightly my ribs could splinter, then reform to explode again.

I feel tears on my neck. Tears. And they're not mine.

"Loren …" I murmur, "It's okay."

"No! It's _not_ okay!" he yells back, "This is _all my fault_! **_All_** of it! How could you even _say_ that?!"

I just smile, weakly. He's such a _boy_. It's over. It's in the past. He thinks he can just take all this regret, this guilt, on his shoulders and be fine? Ptah.

Men.

"I really want to slap you," I say to him.

He blinks. No! Don't shield your eyes! They're too green!

"Didn't you get the apple?" he says, calmer, "Didn't you read what it-"

I grin, and then do the stupidest thing in my life on my impulse.

I do most things in life recklessly.

Selfishly.

I'm so selfish.

Really.

And stupid.

Haven't I already mentioned that?

Yeah, I have.

Have I no consideration for Lorens feelings?

Probably not.

So I lean forward and kiss him on the cheek.

_Thrice__._

**_*What _did you just say, Daisy? Boring? Ha! And I thought you knew me for a second there!**

**So, Chloe, Lucinda, Wolfie, and now DisneyPotterPython! It's all you reviews that keep me going :)!**

**This'll get corny and emotional in a minute, so I'll stop thanking people now.**

**Meh.**

**I love my characters. They're so cool. No, really. They're awesome. I could even stop it RIGHT HERE! Maybe I shalt ...!**


	13. Prince Charming Pie

"Can I let go yet?"

"No."

I think I've been hugging him for two weeks now. He hasn't let me escape. He's a big meanie. Loren's voice gruffens as he speaks again:

"I'm not going to lose you again. Never."

I want to … I want to do something to change the way he sees things. Because there is no WAY he could have foreseen this. There is no way he predicted this outcome.

_I was there._

_I was there when he said 'those three words'._

_I was there on that day._

_I was there._

_The worst thing would have been the silence. He said the magic words, and he couldn't take them back. They were lost now, no longer his, hanging in the air for anyone to hear. Loren saw my face. He saw my expression. He read my emotions, and he studied my reaction. _

_But at least I didn't get the chance to reply._

_Within seconds, I was slammed back into a hard stone, and Loren was smote across the face. I gagged, desperately kicking out against the Eagle's grip, but the hairy seagull slapped me brutally and I gave out. The last thing I heard was the Eagle, laughing cruelly at Loren, striking him countless times, jeering. I smelt the whip, moulding horsehair twisting into thick rope, and I smelt the anxt and sorrow in the air. All Lorens. I tasted blood in my mouth, on my tongue, metallic and sharp and stinging. I felt the lash of the whip, and I felt it bad. And I realised how Loren would have ended if I really had killed him._

_And I saw Loren's eyes, wide and green … and agonised. He was gazing right at me._

I shudder, a chill going up my spine, and manage to get out of his embrace. He looks at me, obviously about to say something, but pausing as he sees the pain in my eyes. Gently, he lifts my chin up so that my gaze is level with his.

"It wasn't your fault, Ann, it was mine. I should never have said it … not infront of him. I … I never knew what they put you through, but … no human should have been treated that way. Not even an Eagle," he murmurs softly to me, then lays a kiss in my hair and leads me away.

"Come on," he says, changing tone entirely, "I can't wait for you to meet them."

… Huh?!

"Jace."

The first time I say it, is without emotion. My face is a blank slate of neutral territory. Before me is a blond man, grinning his cute face off, blue-eyed and tanned. This is the man who left me without a word. We didn't even break up, or fight. He just … got _bored_ of me. He found another toy – a half-Noble. Did the silver hair seem attractive to him? Possibly. All I know is, he robbed me of my ability to love. I would have stayed that way too, if Loren hadn't brought me round.

"Jace."

The second time I say it, you can't tell whether I'm happy or sad because Jace has just hurled himself into me. It doesn't stay that way for long.

I break tradition and slap him twice, but far harder than on Loren.

He chokes, reeling back and rubbing the two red marks on either side of his face, The look of hurt he bares is immense, but I don't care. I stare back at him with hatred.

"You left me Jace. You just abandoned me. You didn't say a thing. Why would I even like you?" I whisper, grinding every word into mince before spitting it out with malice.

He flinches.

And then sighs and shakes his head.

"You got it all wrooong, gorgeous – _I w-a-s k-i-d-n-a-p-p-e-d_. Well. _Sort_ of. I guess I didn't rebel or anything, but I was about to die at that point so … **_ow_**?!"

I've just whacked him again, before screaming right in his face with every shred of loathing I have left in me. Loren moves forward and puts a hand on my shoulder, unnerved, but I hardly notice.

"**_WHAT THE HELL, JACE?! WHAT THE HELL?!_** **MY BROTHER DIED A FEW DAYS AFTER YOU LEFT, HE WAS ****_MURDERED_**! MY WHOLE _FAMILY_ WAS F*CKING MURDERD! WHERE WERE YOU?! IF YOU WERE THERE … _IF YOU WERE ONLY THERE, MAYBE YOU COULD'VE HELPED ME BACK TO REALITY_, BUT BLEEDING **NO** THAT WASN'T ENOUGH FOR YOU! I HAVE BEEN _JAILED, TORTURED, BEEN PUT THROUGH HELL AND BACK_, AND YOU THINK IT'S GONNA **BE ALRIGHT**?! YOU THINK WE CAN JUST GO BACK?! **_NO_**! I HAVE MY OWN LIFE NOW – AND **YOU** ARE **_NOT _**A PART OF IT!"

I gasp for breath, stepping back before righting myself. Jace stammers, eyes wide as a fish's, trying to mumble something to me, but I shake my head. No. Nothing can make up for what he did. He left me, and when he did, I had no-one. _No_-_one_. No love, no friends, no family … nothing but for _enemies_.

I cannot forgive …

… No. That's not right.

…

I _will_ not forgive.

***Meh. Meh is cool. Meh ****_understands_**** me. Meh is a part of me. I like Meh, and Meh likes me. I am a Meh. ****_Meh_****_Meh_****_Meh_****.**

**Does anyone else here like Skulduggery Pleasant and Maximum Ride to the edge of the ****solar system**** universe? **

**Sorry. That was random. Daisy – review again, I command thee! Seriously, though. Reviewing is very trendy nowadays. If you wanna be a cool Meh, review. And that is why I have sometimes reviewed my own stories … which, hey, shouldn't technically be possible, but I don't care.**

**So, thank-you to ****_(the list is ever increasing, kyaa!) _****Daisiea, Lucinda, Wolfie and … was there someone else? Did someone called Chloe review – oh my gosh – ****_twelve_****_times_****?! You're a legend, ButterTardis!**

**XX**


	14. A Talkative Female Dwarf

"You okay?"

"Not really," I mumble back, thinking it's Loren sitting down beside me.

I get the shock of my life when I realise that Loren is actually a female dwarf.

"Jace can be quite annoying, but that's mostly when he's drunk," she tells me, with a slightly manic pace to her talking, "You should give him a chance. He's alright mostly. He can be a total sweetheart when he wants to. I guess you just gotta … you know?"

"No, I don't know, but I was his girlfriend for a year. And I know that I never want to see him again. Have we met before?"

The dwarf shakes her head, a few strands of copper hair shaking loose from her bun. She has green eyes, a very nice shade of green, but nothing can beat Loren's standard.

"Well, I'm Tilly, and I'm guessing you're Ann," she says, "And Jace still loves you, truly. You went a bit hard on him back there."

I try not to sigh, and instead change the topic. I don't know how she saw that scene back there, but I seriously don't want to remember it.

"You don't happen to … be able to shrink people by any chance?" I ask innocently, remembering what I had 'hallucinated' back at the Eagle's den.

She pauses, tilting her head at me in curiosity.

"How did you know?" Tilly smiles, tapping her freckled nose mischeviously, "It's my special talent! I'm an alchemist."

My brow furrows. Isn't she a dwarf, though? An alchemist dwarf? I'd never heard of a dwarf practising arcane magic before … was it even possible? Obviously, people have told Tillie this before because no sooner has my mouth opened, her beam splits across her whole face.

"Yes, dwarven alchemists are rare, I suppose," she says, eyes sparkling as she twitters on, "So I'm pretty rare too. I should be the most respected member of this group! Aida won't take me seriously enough … I mean, she'll take me seriously and run away screaming whenever I try to heal her, but she thinks I talk too much. I don't talk that much, do I?"

She turns to me and I freeze into granite. What kind of answer does she expect?! I'm kinda scared. Firstly, I'm at my wits end. Meeting long-lost boyfriends and escaping death-by-torture has made my emotion mangled into one huge clump of angst. Secondly, this hyperactive dwarf has a history … so much I know of. Like, shrinking Eagles. Shrinking. I don't wanna be tiny!

"Sorry!" she says after a while, "Kinda put you on the spot! Awkward question. I'm guessing it's a yes."

I half-smile in appreciation. Man, I'm tired. I still haven't worked out how I'm alive … or how I'm even here.

"Did you say something about a group?" I say suddenly, remembering what Loren had said earlier.

"Yep. That'd be me, Aida, Jace, Faelern, Zander, Seena, Sky, Diego … and, um, Kole? Yeah. Still haven't got used to a Kaelic in the band, especially a blind one, but … hmff. Airdan's my hubby, but he doesn't show up so much nowadays."

I'm left speechless. That's one massive group.

"So … em, what're you doing around here?" I mumble, losing any reserve confidence I may have had.

"Prison break. There was an unauthorised Eagle camp around, and we were all bored. Diego didn't know about it … well, so he _says_. I'm pretty sure Sky smacked him. Or was it Aida? I don't know. Diego's the boss for the Eagles. Most of them do what he says, so effectively the Eagles belong to _us_, but there are still these rebel clubs that don't obey Diego. They don't trust him: he _is_ Adeshian, so I guess they got a reason behind it, but the things they do are just sick … I mean, look at what they did to _you_! You don't even wanna _know_ what happened to Loren …"

That hadn't really struck me before. Whatever pain they inflicted on me, Loren would've got it ten-times worse. I grimace. Considering what grief I've stained on him, without even _mentioning_ it, or thinking about what he went through …

Should I really be with him like this?

****Yay! We all love Tillie! T-I-L-L-I-E! T-I-L-L-I-E!**

**Sooo, thanks to Chloe, Lucinda, Wolfie, DisneyPotterPython, and Daisiea once more! I don't think I've ever got so many reviews for one story before …**

**Also, I've now posted some stories on Fictionpress! For those of you who don't know what it is, it's a site made by the same people who brought you Fanfiction, but where you can post your own unique stories. Like, not fanfics, just stories. My story is called Heska (it's the ONLY ONE called that on there) and I have now posted Earth Moon. Mgyaah!**

**And remember to review, fave an' follow! Well, obviously don't if you didn't like it. It's a sort of optional thing. I mean, it'd be great if you could, but it's not mandatory. Mandatory means you have to do it, by the way. You don't have to. Well. Yeah. Please do. If you could. That'd be cool.**

**Lu xx**


	15. Butterfeet

It's the third day and I'm not looking at Jace.

Oh, I know he's there alright. How could I not? He's been doing everything possible to get me to notice him, from tickling me to doing drunken-dances in front of me. The last part was seriously creepy. Luckily, Loren intervened before anything could get seriously damaged (i.e. my mental health and eyesight).

Right now, I'm collecting firewood. Seems like it's all I do nowadays. It's all I can do, actually, usefulness-wise. I'm still recovering, along with Loren. I'm either collecting kindling in the nearby forest, listening to Kole playing Kaelic music on the flute or being a test-subject (victim) for Tillie's disastrous potions.

Kole's nice. He's quite sensitive though, and in more ways than one. Since he's blind, he sees the world through hearing, touching, smells and taste. Mostly hearing. So, he's sensitive like that, but he also gets flustered pretty easily. I suppose it's cute. He has the most adorable ability to blush. I mean, sorry Loren, that's the only skill you're lacking. Actually, those two are getting quite close. It's sweet. I'm glad that things can get better for Loren.

Aida … hmf. I know that she never stole Jace now … well, technically she did, but not in _that_ sense. She's … okay, I'll admit. She's funny to be around. Sometimes, she can actually make me smile … and _laugh_! I rarely do that nowadays. I _can't_. Actually, I think she's got something for Zander, but that's just a hunch.

Zander's gorgeous, hands down. And he's a moon-elf. I like elves. Elves are cool. Actually, I'd never met an elf up 'til now, but … hey, they're pretty cool! Faelerns an elf. Sun-elf. For some reason, he walks around shirtless. _Aaand_ he's surprisingly cold for a 'sun' elf. He barely notices anyone … other than Seena.

Okay, Seena I adore. She has the most amazing mouse-ears ever – yeah, she's a lith. She's sweet. She gets mixed up with first person and third person all the time, which I must say is _precious_. Precious.

Sky's been amazing to me. Like, seriously, she worries about Loren and me all the time. She's an incredible worrywart … but in a good way. I guess she's suffering too, but it's extraordinary how she fights against it so bravely. I wish I could do that. But I can't.

I think the person I hate most right now is Diego.

Yeah, the leader of the Eagles. Everyone's told me already that 'he's on our side, blah blah', but I don't give a shit. That guy's so _calculating_. He's sly. I feel like he's a fox, and one day he's just gonna turn on us and '_snap'_ we're all dead. Ugh. The bastard gives me the chills.

Tillie is my favourite by miles. She's like a mother hen … _sort_ of. She keeps us generally under control, apart from the fact that she's nowhere under control herself, so we're never _all_ under control.

I fumble with the sticks, stagger backwards over a root and end up with all the kindling in my hair. Great. My poor hair… what did it ever do to deserve _this_?! Trembling slightly from the sudden fall, I clamber to my feet and try to gather them all up again. If collecting firewood is all I can do, then do it I shall. I want to show my gratitude to everyone, and I want everyone to _feel_ my appreciation. I have to do something to thank them. It's stupid. I won't be able to do _anything_ if I continue like this.

"Damn it!" I yell to no-one in particular.

Then I spot a flower. Éh hé hé! It's cute. It reminds me of Seena for some reason, maybe because of the two larger golden petals at the top like her golden ears. I smile. Well, that is something I can do.

I mean, it's only three-hundred feet away on the edge of an extremely steep waterfall, right?

I dismiss every single warning from my parents when I was young. I was a cheeky scamp, always tumbling close to sheer rock-faces and vertical cliffs. Haven't really grown up, I suppose.

Gradually, as I near the flower, I spot signs of erosion. Like, abrupt edges where the soil looks recently broken. Hmmf. My adrenaline tingles. This is ridiculous: it's only in stories* where someone is _actually stupid_ enough to fall off a cliff. Gingerly, I stoop down, careful not to loose my grip.

I pluck the flower gently and clasp it in my hands.

It's _gorgeous._ The stem is almost the same shade as Lorens eyes, and the flower itself is a sort of sugarplum lilac colour. As aforesaid, the top two petals are larger, and actually tinted a golden colour.

I smile, just as I hear a disturbing tremor quaking through the earth.

_Ah crap._

"Idiot!"

Suddenly, I'm lifted off my feet and I'm in the air. I'm falling. I don't know who called me an idiot, but after I fall off this cliff and die I'm gonna kill 'em. Ah. Wind whistles past my skin. Am I dying _again? In_ such quick succession?

No. I'm being lowered gently to the ground and set on my feet.

"Idiot," pants the voice again, "I actually thought … you were gonna jump then or summit."

Heart hammering, I squeeze open my eyes and stifle a gasp.

"_J-Jace_?!"

* Now doesn't that sound familiar? (This is referring to the asterisk earlier on).

****GUYS! GUYS! I LOVE ALL YOU GUYS! **

**Thanks Lucinda, for that last review! That's a really good idea; I love Loren, and I love Kole, so … yeah!**

**Okay. I've already PMailed (is that how you spell it?) Chloe about this, but …**

**THIS MAY BE ONE OF THE LAST TWO (****_THREE, FOUR, FIVE_****) CHAPTERS!**

**Yes, I am thinking of ending it soon. This will be the first fanfiction … EVER … to actually end! **

**_BUUUT_**** I love my characters too much, so I'm gonna make a sequel.**

**Let me know if you want the sequel to also be an Ascension one! **

**Lu xx**


	16. Real?

He looks me straight in the eye.

"Promise me that you won't ever do that again," he whispers gravely.

Oh God. He's way too close. Why did he pierce his ears? I thought I told him not to! Idiot. Yeah, he called me an idiot before, didn't he? Although _technically_ he saved my life. _Technically_. Let's _not_ get technical.

"I'm not an idiot …" I whisper back in his ear, "… Idiot."

Something in his face lights up. A soft smile crumples across his face.

"You're talking to me. Idiot," he says.

I don't know why. I don't know why something in my chest suddenly gives way. Suddenly, my body is heavy and I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. I'm gonna break, Godammit. I'm probably gonna _cry_. I'm so weak. I'm so _weak_! Why can't I think of something _funny_ to say back at him?

What's wrong with me?!

"I'm sorry," I say, voice dry and gravelly from disuse and raw emotion, "I'm so sorry … I-I-I just got so _mad_, I couldn't think straight … I just … I just …"

My apology is muffled by Jace pulling me into a hug.

"Shh, it's okay. It's great in fact, 'cause you're not angry anymore. And it's _brilliant_ because I'm here, and I'm just an incredible person," he says like an idiot. Well. Not _like_ an idiot, because he is an idiot.

The fact he's an idiot makes my eyes water. This is stupid. Stupid! I'm stupid. I'm not supposed to be hugging him. There's something nagging me. Something bugging me. Something I'm meant to remember, and something that the heat of this moment has made me forget.

When was the last time someone hugged me like this?

Oh. Snap.

I twist my way out of his embrace instantly and stumble onto my feet. His expression is of nothing but shock and hurt. I feel like a monster … but I can't be with him. I can't.

"I-I'm going …" I say breathily, trying to ignore the way Jace stares at me.

I'm about to turn tail and flee, but he grabs my arm and forces me to stop. My cheeks flush magenta. Oh God, I'm getting so wound-up. I clutch the flower to release my stress. I want to actually cry, like, actually _actually_ cry. I want to run away. But I can't. Because I would be hurting Jace … like nothing before.

"Why?" he says persistently, clenching my wrist to the point of pain, "_Why_? Why can't things … go _back_? I don't understand!"

For a second I'm lost in the way he's staring at me. Anger spirals in his irises. He knows I'm weak. Is that why he's choosing now as the time? Because he knows … that it'll all come out.

I close my eyes.

"Because I've moved on," I murmur, "And you are not the one I love. I'm sorry Jace … but you left me. You left me for a life of adventure, and you left me with nobody in the world left. I can forgive you … but I can't return. I'm sorry."

At last his hand goes limp. I jerk away. Even as I walk off, back into the forest, I glance back at his face.

At his pale face soaked with tears.

I can't hold back my crying anymore. I start heaving with sobs, holding out the flower in front of me. My silvery tears splash onto it. No more Jace. I've finally said it. I've known all this time, that it is Loren and me now, not him. But … saying those words … I've actually realised how hard it is to let go. And I've let go.

"Ann! Wait!"

Oh God, it's Jace. I can see him running, crashing through the woods, snapping pine-needles and making a desperate clamour. No! He can't come back! I spin away from him, breaking into a sprint.

"No! Leave me be!" I cry hoarsely.

Suddenly, someone grabs my hand. I stifle a scream, my whole arm writhing.

"Let go of me Jace!" I say, choking on my words, "Let _go_!"

But his hand has an iron grip. I'm weak, and I'm vulnerable, and I'm bloody terrified of him. I'm terrified that … he'll go too far. I'm terrified like he'll hurt me … like he hurt me before!

"LET ME GO!" I scream. And I twist around to face him.

Ah.

It's not Jace.

Damn you, Loren.

Loren tightens his grasp on my wrist. He stares at me for how long I don't know. His eyes are so green. They're like … emeralds. I'm sure I've mentioned all this before. I'm sure. Eventually, my breathing rate calms down. Loren is like some kind of medicine for me. I can't believe I love him so much.

"What's wrong?" he whispers into my ear.

I blanch. I can't say. I can't say that, moments before now, I've been hugging Jace. There is no way I could do that. I told him I loved him … and I do. But, Jace just sprung it on me. I couldn't control myself.

"I … I …" I stammer, my body heating to unnatural temperatures, "I … I just …"

Then he pokes my nose.

Ouch.

"Wh-What was that for?" I say, annoyed, rubbing my nose.

I poke him back.

Ha.

"Wh-What was that for?" Loren replies, making his voice all high and squeaky, imitating me.

He pokes me again.

I poke him back.

He pokes me AGAIN.

**_THIS MEANS WAR …_**

"Oh yeah!" I say, pulling out that flower from my dress, "I found a pretty flower!"

Loren looks down at the flower I've pushed under his nose.

"Waah! It's adorable!" he laughs.

"You can have it."

It's sundown. We're walking back to camp. I'm tired, and I'm about to break. Loren speaks softly, treating me like a porcelain doll. That's good, because I certainly _feel_ like one. I don't know where Jace is and, frankly, I don't care. He could go to hell for all I know.

My feet still tremble as I place them one in front the other as I walk. I nearly died, and if Jace hadn't been there …

But he should know that we can't go back. I've forgiven him, maybe we can be friends, but nothing more. Jace is a nice guy. He'll find someone else.

"What were you doing?" Loren says as I look up to find him analysing my taut face and bit lip, "Before, I mean."

I turn away quickly. I can't lie to his face. He knows me. I can't hide anything anymore.

"Oh, the usual, you know. Mental breakdown, punching trees, wondering if I should treat my blister … okay, forget about the last part," I say lightly, still looking away.

Loren sighs and plants a hand on my shoulder. His hand is strong, and secure. He is solid. I can lean on him and he won't sway. I don't understand, from all he's been through …

"You suck at lying. But … if you really don't want to tell me that much, then hey, I'm fine with that."

A watery sheen develops over my eyes. Someone could love me that much that they could say that.

Someone could love me _at all_.

***Agh! Update time! Sorry, SUUUPER BUSY, but you don't wanna listen to my lame apologies, do you? "I don't want excuses, I want results!" and all that jazz.**

**So yeah, guys, REAAALLY would appreciate some feedback on the sequel to this (if it should be Ascension or not). Just a PM will do! A review's even better, but I get that some people don't have time ****to bother**** for that.**

**Ciya!**

**Lu xx**


	17. Don't You Dare

****This chapter is rated T-M for explicit content. I don't know which. Couldn't bring myself to write REALLY explicit content, though, 'cause I'm too soft. Enjoy! (The plot thickens ...)**

"G'night," says Loren sleepily, brushing my floppy fringe aside to peck my forehead, "Don't do anything stupid."

"_Charming_!" I snort. I catch a grin as he leaves the tent.

My eyes roam over to the apple. Fruit-flies swarm over the softened skin, and I wrinkle my nose in disgust. It's rotten, but I can't bring myself to get rid of it. Loren has commented on it twice before, but I've always ended the conversation there.

Several knocks interrupt my wandering thoughts.

"Come in," I say lazily, wafting my hands vaguely even though they can't see me.

"I-It's Kole," they stammer.

I share a smile with myself (that's not really sharing though). This'll be a nice end to the day; he's such a _sweetie_.

"Yeah, I _did_ say come in," I say indifferently, propping myself in my leather outfit. I'm not quite ready to sleep yet.

Gingerly, the Kaelik draws aside the _door/curtain/entrance/flap/thing _and shifts into the room, blushing for yet another non-apparent reason. About five minutes pass in silence, the atmosphere deepening more and more.

"… And?" I say eventually. Then I feel proud with myself for breaking the awkward silence.

"Ah!" he splutters, face glowing fuchsia now, "S-S-Sorry! Uh … well, _Jace_ wants … to see you. Is that … okay?"

I pause. Hesitate. Take a moment's reprieve.

I've been reprieving for half an hour (minute, Kole would've checked if I was dead or not if I hadn't been breathing for half an hour) before Kole clears his throat.

"Your stomach muscles are tensing, breathing rate is steadily increasing and your pupils are dilating erratically. Is … that a _no_, then?" Kole says with disturbing accuracy.

He does that a lot. Loren and him are still like peas in a pod, so I can't help but dread that **_HE'LL_** be as scary as that someday. Only, it'll be worse, 'cause _he's_ not blind …

"No. I don't want to see him. Tell him, if he's got spare time, to jump off that cliff, but no, I don't want to see him. I'm avoiding physical contact right now," I tell Kole bluntly, and he almost loses his balance.

"S-Sorry! I mean, I knew there was always some kind of … between you … I mean … sorry, I'll go."

"Yes, please," I sigh exhaustedly, then add when I see his alarm: "No offence intended."

"Lots taken."

My breath snags in my throat.

"_Jace_! Get the fuck _out_ of here!" I swear, chucking the nearest object (a pillow) at the ex-boyfriend stepping into my tent.

He winces, but I know it's not the pillow that's hurting him.

"I just wanted to _talk_," he snaps, giving Kole the deadpan stare that sends him stumbling from the tent.

"Well, _I_ don't. Now kindly piss off."

He retracts in unnerve.

"Well, _you're_ back to normal," he says drily, "I preferred you when you were healing. You were gentler, you let me hug you, and you didn't swear so much."

"I think you taught me that last phrase, _knight_," I hiss.

My ex blanches. Bringing up the old lover's-nickname must be painful. _Aw_. How sad.

"_That's_ what I'm talking about. That's what I _mean_. Don't you get it? Why can't you _see_ it?" Jace says through gritted teeth, blinking back tears.

I shrug in confusion, then hurl a grindstone at him. It misses.

"Why can't we go back?" he starts, edging forward, "To when we were together? We were so happy …"

"I'm not now. I don't give a _shit_ about you. I have gone through _too much_, Jace, you know that. You were the first person to see me after the torture," I say forcibly, "And I'm with Loren. End _of_."

_Oh shit._

_He didn't know that._

I gasp, leg buckling as I slip back onto my bed. Jace's azure eyes widen and he lunges, grabbing my tunic.

"_What_?" he whispers threateningly into my ear, "_What_ did you say?"

I swallow mustering my nerve.

"Loren is with me, and I am with Loren," I murmur with dry lips, "I love him, not you. I will never love you. Look at yourself."

He looks at himself. And he looks at me.

"I can … I can _make_ you love me. I can mend things. I can make things … _better_, right?"

Jace chuckles lightly, and my brow furrows.

"What? No you can't. You can't force love … … … oh my God. Oh my God, Jace, stop. Don't you _dare_!"

He pulls at the hem of his shirt, staring at me. His eyes are lost. He's desperate. _He knows I'm gone. _

I can't look, but I can't move my gaze. I can't move. I know that what he's going to do.

Jace throws his shirt into the corner, not noticing it send the apple rolling out of the tent. The flies give chase after it. I lick my lips slightly, trying to get away. Jace sees me moving and jams a fist into my windpipe. I can't speak, but I cry, and tears loose themselves and descend down my cheeks.

The man I used to love, the man I used to know, removes his belt and secures it around my mouth as a gag. I try to scream, flailing, kicking out, as he starts to undress entirely. No. No.

_'Don't you fuck me, Jace! Don't you fuck with this!'_ I think.

This man used to be sane.

And now he's beneath mortality.

Sneering with known superiority, he grabs my tunic and pulls it straight off.

"**_BASTARD! YOU BASTARD!_**" I want to scream, kicking out again, striking his leg.

He swears, eyes going mental. Suddenly, he loses all control, ripping off everything, even my gag.

Even my gag.

I choke on sobs, about to scream.

About to scream.

Then the flap ducks slightly as someone pushes against it.

"Hey, babe, sounded kinda _loud_ in here so I …"

I lost the will to live at that exact moment, even though I was gazing into Loren's green green eyes.

****Oh my God. I didn't actually know I was actually capable of writing that. I need to change the rating to M now, right?**

**Okay.**

**Okay.**

**Oh my God, I still can't believe I even WROTE that!**

**But it's okay. This'll all go to plan. Things are gonna go crazy in a minute, so sit tight!**

**And Daisy, I've officially decided that you should not be reading this.**

**I mean, I know I shouldn't be writing this, but let's end it there.**

**SO YEAH! GUYS, ANY NEWS ON THIS SEQUEL!?**

**P.S. Daisy, you must never let Taryn read this, even if you continue.**


	18. The Spot

Lost in a sea of green, I grow limp and forget the naked man sprawled over me.

Loren stares past everything, right into the back of my mind, and the intensity numbs my mind and everything else. I open my mouth – _to say something?_ – but nothing comes out.

"So," says Loren quietly, tensing his fists, "I guess this is what you were hiding from me, huh?"

I know he won't believe me, no matter what I do, no matter if I tell him the **TRUTH.**

**THE TRUTH.**

Right there, big and bold – **THE TRUTH**. But Loren can't possibly know now. Everything's so twisted. Jace slowly turns around to face Loren, and tells him:

"Looks like I've won, boyfriend. She never _really _loved you, did she?" he smiles, fingering the straps of my bra. I can't move. Immobile. Frozen. _LOST._

"No …" I choke out, my voice cracking, "No, Loren … this isn't … this isn't …"

"Well, what _ARE_ you doing, then?" says Loren hoarsely, "I'm not an idiot. What do you take me for? You were only ever _playing _with me. I couldn't IMAGINE how you pictured _me_."

What am I doing? Being raped, that's what; only you wouldn't think that, would you? But I am in the wrong, for being so _WEAK,_ for letting Jace under my SKIN like that. How could I have ever loved this man? How could I have ever known he'd _treat _me this way?

"I hope you're happy, Ann," he whispers, turning away, "From the bottom of my heart."

I blink.

At that exact moment, I stiffen with an epiphany. An epiphany … that I have no reason to live anymore.

Jace's tongue traces the edge of his mouth and he looks back to me, forcing me down again.

"Now," he laughs softly, "Where were we ...?"

Slowly, so torturously slowly, his eyes roam further and further down my body. My trousers are still on, but that it's. I trembleas I arch my leg, and I muster up the rest of my strength.

I kick him hard in the nuts.

My eyes sting with tears as I sprint out of the tent. How?! How could this have gone so wrong? Wind whips me and I remember the first day I was let outside in the prison camp. Loren was with me, and later I had tried to kill him. But still he came back, and that seems so long ago now. After all we've been through – _the torture, the cruelty, the fact that I was a prisoner, the fact that he was an Eagle, everything_ – what happened?

I scream out the only thing I can think of, aware that it is not only Loren who can hear me:

**_"LOREN! THIS … THIS ISN'T WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!"_**

I awake to grass pressed roughly against the side of my face, and someone shaking me awake. I must have passed out some stage last night, out in the open.

"A-Ann?" he worries, sounding so familiar, "Are you … okay?

I wince open both eyes to be met with Kole gazing vaguely in my direction.

"Yeah … yeah …" I say slowly.

He starts talking about something, but all the time I'm thinking _'I've got to get away, I have to get away'._

My legs hit the ground before he finishes speaking, and I don't look back.

Emotions convulsing with disorientation, I race somewhere into the forest where I've been through before.

"I'm sorry, Kole," I say aloud, between fights for air, "But I won't be coming back."

Inexplicable emotion and raw angst overwhelm me as I draw closer to THE SPOT.

There, in big and bold – THE SPOT.

I don't pause as I tread over the patch where THE FLOWER once was.

There, in big and bold – THE FLOWER.

My chest aches. I could go down now in tears, poised on the edge of THE SPOT, knees buckling over the raging TORRENTS below, but I don't. I have hardly the strength left to cry.

"We're going out to save some more innocent civillians."

I don't know why I'm remembering that conversation with Aida now. Loren and me had only been staying with Aida's folk so long because they weren't moving their pitch for a few more weeks. They were going around all the unauthorised Eagle camps and busting the prisoners out.

But they had something to LIVE for: to make every day better for someone else.

"If you can't make life good enough for yourself, then make it good enough for someone else."

A shard from long ago, in those PEACEFUL times. A shard of memory that dislodges from my mind and appears from before me. MOTHER would always bring up old MOTHER'S sayings around the house, and later I would repeat them to my FRIENDS at school. I wish MOTHER was here know, to tell me what to do … no, I wouldn't be AT THE SPOT now, because I'd have something to LIVE for.

Baby bro …

Loren still has someone to live for; his SISTER. His baby SISTER, the one he cherished so much he joined the fucking EAGLES over her. EAGLES. I call them EAGLES? But I don't have the energy to think up any more bird species.

Even though I am gone, Loren – you still have someone you care for.

Me?

I have no-one anymore.

Bile rises in my throat as I dare a glance over the edge of THE SPOT. Long. Deep. Can't make out the bottom. My shoe accidentally brushes a stone as I step back. I watch as it descends into the rapids. The clamour of THE RIVER drowns it out before it plummets two-feet. I could always slit my wrists, right?

No. I cannot abide blood. The pain … would be to great. A burden on my soul as it ASCENDS.

Do you believe in Ascension?

Well. I could believe in ANYTHING right now.

The one thing I do believe in?

ButterTardis, Lucinda, Wolfie, DisneyPotterPython, Daisy, Taryn … I'm looking at you guys.

And especially you, Chloe.

I run up, gather my momentum, and go over the edge.

I don't even remember hitting the bottom.

**** …**

**HELL YEAH I JUST DID THAT! .!**

**But, ahem, please REVIEW if you have a suggestion about the sequel. I have a few ideas myself, but if I don't get feedback, then the sequel will be an Ascension/Minecraft crossover.**

**Hey, I like Minecraft! (Under-exaggeration – ****_j'adore ça!_****)**

**Lucy xx (Yeah, that's my name! I am no longer genderless for not mentioning my name up until now! Although, you PROBABLY-OBLY guessed my name from my feminine writing-style)**


	19. Still Alive

**A/N:** **If you haven't already done so, please review, fave n' follow – these things are my lifeline here!**

_Yet again, I am alive._

_What a surprise._

I groan. Audibly. My hand traipses out unintentionally, and my fingertips find something wet, and disgustingly so. I recoil as my eyes shoot open.

For whatever reason, I'm in coniferous woodland, sprawled on a sheepskin and confronted by a six year-old cooking rabbit over open flame.

"Am I going mad?" I murmur, the tentacles of sleep finally retreating from my mind.

The girl doesn't start. Her expression doesn't change. She just shrugs.

"I don't think you were in a healthy state of mind to _begin_ with," she says openly, "I found you washed up on the riverside near a waterfall. Did you fall off a cliff or somethin'?"

"No. I _jumped_ off it."

My mind wanders. Wasn't a drop like that similar to a **_CERTAIN, UTTER AND NO COMPROMISES DEATH_**? Am I INDESTRUCTIBLE or something?!

"Depressing," the girl yawns.

My jaw slackens. How could a six year-old be so cynical?!

"I lead a very boring life. My family was murdered as bait, I took the bait and murdered the murderers of my murdered family and BECAME a murderer, I wound up in jail, met a really cute guy, got tortured 'cause we liked each-other, got busted out by my ex who left me a few years beforehand, me and that cute guy aforementioned started going out, my ex was still obsessed with me, long story short – he tried to rape me, my ex witnessed the whole thing, thought that I was cheating on him, I realised I had no-one and nothing to live for … and I jumped off a cliff."

"Well, that didn't really work, did it?" she says back, "But that's a cool story. I'll let you stay for a bit. I mean, the whole thing's so cheesy it sounds like an immature, overly-romantic weirdo wrote it _(*That's me, guys!) _but other than that, it's good. Okay."

I pant. I just blurted out my whole messed-up life to a six year-old. What the hell am I coming to? What have I just exposed that little kid to? The trauma and the depression of real-life? Bitter angst and love? Brilliant. You go, Ann.

"So … you and cute guy, is it? Why don't you tell him what really happened?" the girl says earnestly, and this brings upon a smile, "You never know. You might kiss and make up, right?"

Tears glass my eyes, but I cannot let myself show her what this world really is like. I cannot let the tears fall.

"Seriously doubting that, kiddo. Nice try. And, uh, thanks for saving me … but I'm probably gonna commit suicide again, just saying," I sigh, managing to haul myself up. The girl smirks.

"Don't thank_ me_. It was the water that saved you, idiot. You dived in the deep-end, and you're obviously quite strong. You scraped through … and, uh, you've been out for about two weeks, but, you're alive. That's a thing."

My eyes widen. Did she call me an IDIOT?! WHAT THE … well, I want to put something in that ellipses, but I won't for the sake of the girl's vocabulary.

Suddenly, my knees buckle and I end up swearing anyway as my forearm bashes into a nearby tree when I hit the ground. She laughs (cruelly) but helps me onto my knees.

"Yeah, I wouldn't get up if I were you. You dislocated both legs in the fall – I've slotted them back in, but the muscles are pretty weak," she tells me (cruelly).

"Would've been nice knowing that _before _I attempted to stand …" I mutter (cruelly), but let the subject drop.

This girl has smiley-eyes (when she actually _does _smile), and I'm so irrevocably reminded of Loren that my eyes threaten to water again. And the shade of her eyes … is the exact same shade as his. A rich, lustrous, glimmering deep emerald colour.

Her hair is auburn, though, and messed up with leaves and brambles. Her skin is dappled with freckles. She … isn't Loren's clone.

She isn't someone I can replace the emptiness with. The emptiness where Loren once was.

It still hasn't really _sunken in_ yet, I guess: that Loren is gone, and soon I will be too. Every time I look about, and see something vividly green, I expect to be looking into Loren's eyes, and I break into a smile. But it is just the girl, and just the girl it will always be. From now … until forever

"What's your name?" I ask her, but hastily add, "I mean, if you have a name, if you weren't, like _born _as a wild-girl or something, or raised by wolves."

Actually, saying that is more insulting than just asking straight-out for her name. Ah, well, she's a pessimist. She'll get over it.

"You know, saying the last bit was more insulting than just asking for my name in the first place," she says flatly, reading my mind, "But my name's Svenya. I wasn't always living out in the wild."

_You're five or six, _I tell myself, _you shouldn't be living like this in the first place_.

"Ann," I reply, "Ann Riven."

"Okay then, Ann. You can rest with me for two more days, maximum. I need to move soon, else the _wolves'll _catch my scent again. Last time was a _disaster_."

I nod.

I nod so much I _nod off _(classic pun) to sleep.

But I don't get many jokes in my dreams.

Loren visits me.

I begin to cry.

He smiles. Sadly.

He takes my hand, and we fade away to a better place.

Where there is no hurt.

No pain.

No misunderstandings.

Nothing that can come between us.

Something … that makes_ us _undefeatable, and not just me.

Not the me that used to live by Jace's words …

_"Ann Riven, the beautiful, daring and unshakeable Ann Riven"_

Not so unshakeable now, am I right?

**** Alrighty! She's STILL fricking alive because, yet again, I was so soft I couldn't kill her off. But it's seriously only about two or three chapters to the close, and it will be the FIRST FANFIC I've EVER completed!**

**Lu xx**

**(Thanks Chloe for your awesome ideas on the sequel! They sound really good!)**


	20. Epiphany

**A/N: I just figured out how to make the italics-shortcut come up without having to select a whole word. I could do it on my other computer, but this one's old and LAME (sorry dad (yeah, it's my dad's) but it's true) so I didn't know if shortcuts were possible.**

****_Svenya, Svenya, Svenya. _

_The name echoes in my mind, her face fading in and out of view. _

_Svenya. Svenya. _

_Each thought of her sparks nostalgia, and each image brings around déjà vu. _

_A child. Six-years old, living out in the wild. But why?_

"What are you, a paedophile lesbian?"

I awaken with a start. Svenya glares suspiciously at me from a few feet, still trussed up in the extra jumpers she's donned for sleeping in, as the nights are cold at this time of year.

"Huh …?" I murmur, trying to recall what she just named me, "Pedicle … leopard?

She sighs heavily, her shoulders drooping as she lets her guard down, and lays back again.

"Oh, nothing. You were just saying my name over and over again in your sleep, so I called you a paedophile lesbian."

Blush sizzles furiously over my cheeks.

"Oi!" I cry angrily, propping myself up on my elbows, "You watch it, smartypants! Hey – how come you even _know _what those words mean?"

She shrugs, but rolls over and turns her back to me, drawing the conversation to a close. Obviously, this is a sticky topic.

"So … why are you out here, anyway?" I say, deftly changing subjects, "Orphan? Or … runaway child?"

"The last one. Runaway."

"Sooo … you had a fall-out with your family, then?" I ask innocently.

"No," she replies, taking me utterly by surprise, "I love my family. But, my parents became … depressed, when my brother went to become an Eagle."

"Your brother was an _Eagle_?!" I cry, and a wave of guilt and angst washes over me as I wonder if he was one of the five Eagles I killed before. Sorry – _parakeets _(thanks Lucinda – you're a lifesaver!).

Suddenly, she throws off her thin blanket and crashes onto her feet. Her face is red, hurt and screwed-up, and for the first time (… in forever! I'd say that, if it wasn't direct copyright from Frozen ;P) I realise how young she actually is.

"_He wasn't an Eagle!_" she yells, fists bunching up into small fists, "_He didn't belong with them! He joined them to protect __**ME**__! He's a stupid, selfless idiot, because if he didn't join them, then I would __**DIE**__! I love him, I know I do, even if I was only two when he went away! My parents told me stories about him, and I __**KNOW **__that I love him! I'm looking for him even now, that's why I ran away! He's … He's the most precious person in the __**WORLD**__ to me! When … When someone risks everything for you, you know … you know they're the only person who can possibly matter!_"

_'The Eagle grins at me, jade eyes flashing mischeviously. Again, what is the deal with those eyes? I'm worried I'll go into a trance if I watch them for too long …'_

_' "What cause? Save the rainforest? Liths-in-need?"_

_"Ladies-in-need. I wasn't heroic; I didn't know I'd get into any sort of bother over it, but … that apple. The fact I stole it … and gave it to the woman who took out five Eagles … didn't pay off well." '_

_' "Stop slapping me." '_

Loren. Svenya. Their faces blur together … into each other. I see their faces, transfused … and they are the same.

Their blood is as one.

"Svenya … Svenya …"

I'm hyperventilating and crying, I keep choking and my heart can't keep up with me. I might pass out, I don't know, I keep crying and I won't be able to stop.

"Yeah, I know, it's a sad story," she says nervously, placing an unsteady hand on my shoulder, "But … seriously, you're scaring me now."

She's only six. She's only six. Somehow, I manage to slow down my breathing rate, enough to look at her.

Loren's eyes. Svenya's eyes. Green eyes, so extraordinarily green you think they're divine beings.

"Svenya … I've met your brother … I know where he is, and I know what he is …"

Svenya's eyes widen, but close again with uncertainty.

"_W-What_ he is?"

"He's a Stone. Loren Stone."

****The plot thickens, am I right? This is the penultimate chapter, guys, but I could never have made it so far without the LOOOVE people, keep spreading the looove!  
Yeah, I love you guys! You are the only people (well, except from me, I'm ****_writing _****it) holding this fanfiction up! Without you, this seriously would just be on chapter three. If you want prove, check out any of my ****_other _****failed, unreviewed stories.**

**But – guys – isn't this plot just the BEST!?**

**Lucy xx**

**P.S. The plot still sucks, it's just the best I've ever written. CHEER MEH ON! THE SPELLING OF 'ME' WAS DELIBERATELY SPELLED AS 'MEH' BY THE WAY! .**


	21. The Things Gods do with Spare Time

Oh my goodness.

It's the last chapter.

This is going to be the final rollercoaster, so buckle up for one _hell _of a finale!

"… W_hen you try your best, but you don't succeed  
When you get what you want, but not what you need  
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep  
Stuck in reverse_

_And the tears come streaming down your face_  
_When you lose something you can't replace_  
_When you love someone, but it goes to waste_  
_Could it be worse?_

_Lights will guide you home_  
_And ignite your bones_  
_And I will try to fix you …"_

_\- Fix You by Coldplay -_

My dreams are abstract, but for once I don't complain. Instead, I strive forwards through the nightmare-mist, and take Loren's hand. His face lights up with a smile that melts my heart.

And together, we ascend.

Gently, I am whispered back to reality, my eyes fluttering open to Svenya stooped beside me. Her hand is cupped to my ear, and she pauses halfway through her murmuring and nods at me. That is all we need. No more. I stir and rise to my feet. No staggering. No stumbles. Noislessly, we pack away the makeshift beds into Svenya's small rucksack, and I scatter the charcoal around the camp to disturb our scent. The wolves have delicate senses.  
I pause, and glance over at Svenya before stepping from our camp. Her eyes are glazed, both with disbelief and unnerve

"You lead the way," murmurs Svenya, gesturing mildly with her hand. I bow my head, and together we tread softly through the forest.

Slender conifers grasp at the sky, branches splayed like windblown thread. I have seen too much of life to poke fun at something like that. _We_ have seen too much. Maybe another version of myself would have mocked this, mocked everything, but the me now cannot. A younger Ann would never have understood Svenya's silence, her cynical aspect of life at such a young age, but I can. And it's a shame that she's grown with a burden like that on her soul.  
I wish she ascends. I wish that her spirit will be cleansed, someday.  
If ever.  
My eyes wander off to the heavens and I reflect. The sky is blue, and tranquil. There is no emotion, just utter peace and serenity. A beautiful bluebell lagoon. Blue used to be my favourite colour. It was the colour of my mother's wedding dress, a forget-me-not gown. It was the colour of my father's eyes, a calm teal ocean. It was the colour of my brother's toy boat, one that I made sail the Seven Seas, and one that he made sink on collision with my rubber-duck. It was the colour of my first love. And it was my first love that I will always regret.

Now, my favourite colour is green.

I step smoothly over a disoriented root, and guide Svenya over it too. She's lost within the midst of her imagination. I wonder what she's thinking of? Is she fantasising her reunion with the long-lost brother she left everything behind for? Will she jump up into his arms, and grow back into the baby he once held? Or will he scoop _her _up, and will they stay in their embrace forever? Will they gaze at each other for the longest of times, with the realisation dawning upon them that their eyes are the same, that they are both Stones?  
Or will _I_ be the one first granted entry to his loving hold?

The rock-face looms finally into view. I really had been blind with despair when I launched myself from it: even now, the clashing of the rapids forces Svenya out of her thoughts. I survey the cliff from all angles: how can we scale this thing. I dare a glance back at Svenya, but she's looking at me expectantly, and I can't let her down. Not here, not now.  
My hands reach out to meet the cold stone, but come away quickly as the rock disintergrates in my weak grasp. Shale. Impossible to climb. I study it for two more minutes before waving my arm and walking West of it.

"If we go far enough," I explain to Svenya, ducking under a low branch, "We should come to the edge of the hill. It'll be a longer walk to Loren, but there's no way we can climb up that rockface. It's _shale_."

"What's shale?" asks Svenya, her voice crackling from disuse, and she coughs to clear her throat. This must be the first thing she's said in twenty-four hours, aside the whispers in my ear to wake me up.

"Shale is a really crumbly kind of rock … it's a sedimentary, actually. You know how the cliff's made up of layers? Well, that's what sedimentary rock is: lots of layers of rock squished on top of each other."

Svenya pouts.

"But what about the one on the bottom? Wouldn't they get really … _squashed_?"

I laugh, out loud, the first laugh I've shared with someone for three weeks – from what Svenya says, I've been unconscious for two of them. A child. An innocent, small child. She needs a break. She needs a friend.  
She needs her family.  
I drive on, pushing forwards until the edge is in sight; like I said, we can jump up onto the ledge, and then we'll just have to walk up the hill and through the forest to the camp.

Suddenly, I'm hit by a mortifying thought.

What if … they moved base?

I have to tell Svenya. That's it, end of. She has to know this, she can't have her hopes crushed like this.

"Svenya …" I start weakly, fingers trembling as I haul myself onto the ledge, "I've just realised … they might have moved the camp. I don't … well, I don't know if …"

"How good were your relationships with this group?" Svenya asks with such sharpness that I'm taken aback.

"Uh … good, I guess – I mean, we were friends … most of us, at least. But … yeah … I mean-"

"Then they _won't _have moved, right? If there were friends in that group, they will have stayed on to look for you. See what I mean?" she says, ending the conversation with a brutal note of finality.

I blink. It's not the best explanation, but there's no telling her now. She's stubborn.

We continue until the edge of the cliff.  
Will Loren be looking for me? Will he be searching through the forests, risking the wolves and bears? Will he be venturing down into far-off villages, asking desperately amongst the townspeople for clues? Or will he be waiting anxiously outside my tent, awaiting my arrival, knowing that I will return? Knowing that I will _always_ return?

Because I will. I _will _always return.

Was it chance that I survived suicide? Was it fate? Or was it something more … like my soul knew that our destinies were intertwined, and the Gods couldn't let it end like this.

And I would become a million Eagles to just say … to just say _thank-you_. Thank-you for giving us one more chance.

I quicken my pace, persevering through the tall, thick grass rather than going around it. From the corner of my peripheral vision, I notice Svenya's raised eyebrows, but she doesn't complain. We trudge through the marshy ground until we reach the camp.  
What _used _to be the camp.  
Wind blows through the yellowed grass, the dead sward marking where the various tents had been pitched, and a large ring of blackened stone filled with charcoal confirms the long-dead fireplace. I gaze around, in utter disbelief, as the realisation flows into me …

… They've moved on.

The Gods are playing with our hearts.

Svenya edges gingerly around the borders of the camp, scanning everything for footprints, for clues. I just stare uselessly at where my tent used to be. Now, there's just a large stone in the middle, where the floor of the tent was held down with in strong gusts. I float over to it, my face on the fine line between laughing and crying. A stone. That is all that is left.  
Is this some kind of sick _joke_?  
Or is it … to symbolise _Loren _Stone?  
I walk around the back of it, noticing the flap of paper in the breeze beneath the stone. Great. It's weighing down a _message_. What a surprise.  
Mustering all that's left in my limp body, I manage to push it over and watch as it rolls away. I pluck the note from underneath and read it.

_Ann,_

_This is in case you do ever return. We looked for you for a whole week, but we couldn't stay here forever. Everyone __wanted __to stay, but there's new of movement in the Silver Order, and we had to go. _

_But Loren still_

My heart skips a beat as I pore over the last sentence: Loren still waits for you? Loren still loves you? … Loren still _hates _you?

But of course, that part of the message is ripped off. I finger the edge, and my hand comes back faintly smelling of lager.

Jace.

My eyes focus and refocus on nothing that matters. I nod, twice, three times, before swaying to my feet. I force the bile back down my throat and throw a gaze to Svenya.

She nods, twice, three times, and I smile.

This is okay.

My feet join with the footprints already indented on the grass. This must have been my track, from two weeks ago. I must have run on heavily. Now, I run on _heavier_.

Oh, the joy to be me. They've moved on, and that's that. Loren still … Loren still _what_? I want to cry, but make do with punching the ground even as I move. I need to rip out something.

When I get to THE SPOT, there's someone already there. I don't notice, because I'm hallucinating now. The person keeps melting, and swirling, and I can't even tell their head from their feet. I open my mouth to tell them to move, but nothing comes out. Not a rasp, not anything.

_'Move, please,' _I think desperately, as if I can use telekinesis to contact them, _'Or you'll come off the cliff with me.'_

But they don't shift. Can they see me? No. Through the hazy dots flickering in front of my eyes, I can make out them patting the earth on top of something that vaguely resembles a flower. It vaguely resembles _the _flower.

"M-Move, plea ... please," I choke, voice finally coming to me, "O…Or you'll c-c-come off the c-cliff with … with me."

They turn around, but I can't see anymore, I can't even see their face. I don't know if they're Jace or Tillie.

"Ann?" they murmur, and I know that it's a man.

I start at the sound of my own name on his lips. Somehow, it just sounds so_ right _when he says it. I realise that he's said it before.

"W-Who …?" I begin, but I already know who he his.

Loren really did wait for me.

A young man sat hunched on his bed, a few miles North of a once prosperous Eagle's den. He had the second half of a ripped note, clenched in his tight, sweaty hands. His room smells of whisky, and so does he. He runs a hand through his damp blond hair, and stares at the message.

_' - loves you, Ann. Jace fessed up to everything in his sleep; he was drunken, Ann. He didn't know his left from his right. I hope you realise this. You're a lucky woman! You have two sexy men under your charm! I just have the one, but I still think I'm pretty amazing for that sake. I don't think Jace caused you any real harm, anyway. We won't forget, you won't, and he won't, either. It's just, please don't hate him. When he's sober, he's a nice enough guy as it gets. You knew that, once upon a time._

_But, I wish you the best of luck, girl! You go! Loren said he would wait for you forever, and he should be in either the forest, or by the waterfall. Where did you go, by the way? To the village, or elsewhere?_

_You probably won't ever get this, not with Loren seeing you like that. It's okay, Ann, none of this was your fault. You've undergone waaay too much hardship. But, just for the record, I think you're incredible. And so does Loren._

_Love, Tillie xx '_

His fists tighten, and coiling inwards into a fetal curl, he begins to cry.

The man staggers to his feet, and I can just see him pinching the bridge of his nose like he's in pain. He sways closer to me, and his features begin to come into view.

"No. No, it … it can't be you …" he sighs.

Then he clasps the sides of my face in his hands, gently. Softly, he brushes my cheek with his thumb. His skin is weathered, but tender. I have felt the touch of these hands before. A single tear descends down my chin in a silver, delicate trickle. He strokes it away.

"Slave," I whisper, cupping his strong features in my hands as well. Our arms interlock.

"My lady," he smiles in return.

Gradually, the pain ebbs away with the rest of my senses. I bury my face in his shirt, on the verge of disintegrating. It can't be real. True love … wouldn't come to someone like me. This can only happen in a dream.  
Loren moves his hand to the nape of my neck, his fingertips sidling across the scars that whips have painted. The pain is long gone, but for a second I have a flashback:

_Ripping._

_Tearing._

_Scarring._

_Wounding._

I wince, and nestle my head further into his chest. He strokes my hair.

"I will fix you," he ushers into my ear, "I will wash away … all the pain."

"_You're like my mother_."

We move slowly into each other. Loren eases my face into the sunlight. Daylight opens _my_ eyes, and I find myself gazing right into his. I have missed that level regard.  
We were made for each other.  
Are we about to kiss? I don't know. All I know is, the Gods have shaped us from the earth, from the clay, from life. My heart has been carved from the hardest of stones, but Loren's has been cast from gold. Molten, burning, passionate gold. He is the only one in all of Arunia who can win my love.

And just as we press our lips together, Svenya jumps between us, and that is the end of _THAT_ romantic moment.

**THANKS TO:**

Everyone! The whole _WORLD _is amazing right now, but in particular:

Chloe (ButterTARDIS36)

Lucinda (Lucinda M. H. Cheshir)

Wolfie (Wolfie1236)

DisneyPotterPython

And Daisy (Daisiea) and her sister Taryn. Guys, thanks for still choosing to be my friend EVEN after reading chapter 17 … Daisy, didn't I distinctly tell you _NOT_ to read that?!

Also, thanks to:

Momo-Kuma

bandrose11

and mbabson!

_These were the secret Favs/Followers, so cheers!_

****The sequel is called ****_The Search for Paradise_****, and it is under ****_Minecraft_**** – please check it out! I'll just tell you a BIT of it; the main character is Loreann's daughter! Check it! It will probably be released on the 14****th**** – 15****th**** of March, so stay tuned! And yes, Loreann will play a VERY big role on it. This is based on Chloe's idea.**

**Love from Lucy xxx** – I wouldn't be _alive_ on FanFiction without this story!

… Now let's end it before things get SERIOUSLY cheesy …


	22. Epilogue: What I Sacrifice for Stories

_**The RANDOM THINGS I DID TO ACHIEVE THIS FANFICTION WERE AS FOLLOWS:**_

· I looked up _rocks _on Wikipedia for the last chapter.

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· I had to wait three hours for Ascension to load on RinmaruGames, because I forgot what _ascending _actually friggin' WAS. This was for the penultimate chapter.

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· I visited several _naming _websites, taking a half-hour because this computer LAGS, and then I spent another six days sorting out the names that were crap, and the names that weren't things like _Nog _and _Wasdo_. In the end, I got the Svenya's name when learning the _Reindeers Are Better Than People _song on the guitar, and put Sven's name together with a German phrase I randomly recited at school. This was for the nineteenth chapter, all to get Svenya's name.

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· For the eighteenth chapter, I had to copy and paste various phrases so many times my fingers went numb. Aw, poor me … :'(

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· I had to survive writing this chapter without thinking THIS IS TURNING INTO 50 SHADES OF GREY throughout the entire thing. THAT'S an accomplishment. Also, I had to endure hours of my friends critising my ability to add that kind of thing in. Well … sorry, but I don't care. I can make this stuff _work_.

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· I looked up various images of Jace on Google Images for sixteen(to see whether he had a piercing or not) and the results were not pretty – some of the suggestions were _Hot Jace, Sexy J- _yeah, let's just end it there.

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· For No.15, I spent a week researching every different character on Ascension Rinmaru-Wiki. There are a lot of characters I had to sort through, deciding whether or not they were OFFICIALLY in Aida's 'team' or not. I had a headache by the end. And _you wondered _why it was taking me so long to update!

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· I made strange '_Kyaaa! TILLIE!' _noises throughout chapter 14, because let's face it, Tillie rocks this world.

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· I had to scroll back through fifty pages of writing and write the follow-on from chapter 8, which I really didn't want to do because Loreann got split apart :O!

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· Chapter 12 was great to write, because there was kissing for the first time. WOO HOO! Pucker up ^x^!

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· I had to struggle with AutoFormat for this entire chapter, because it kept changing every word AUTOMATICALLY to a capital letter, and for the effect I REALLY did not need that …

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· Actions scenes are SUPER hard to write, and that just about sums up chapter 10.

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· Same goes for 9.

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· What an awesome chapter to write. No complaints here!

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· It was really hard to imagine Ann actually HURTING Loren. I REALLY DIDN'T WANT IT TO HAPPEN! So sorry … so sorry, Loreann!

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· Spent a LONG time thinking about Ann's tragic backstory for this. I thought about keeping it subtle yet cruel at first, but then it got so hard I just thought _'Sod it! Let's go full-out and make it suicidally depressing!'._

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· I tried to picture the colours you would see from a prison cell. Grey, brown and black. Thank God for Chloe's idea of the plum, and Loren's eyes were always an option. Then I just looked up colours on an online thesaurus because I was feeling like a SLOTH!

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· Had to think about _Loren's _tragic backstory. Naturally, it had to be happier than Ann's because Ann's the main character, and she's very conflicted, but it was still tricky. The whole 'sister' thing REALLY worked out later on, whoop-de-doo!

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· I put in tons of swear-words because I had a bad day of school, and that helped let off some steam. Ahh, what a refreshingly naughty chapter!

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· Chapter 2 was spent basking in the glory of having my first review (thanks SOOO much, Chloe!). Yaaay! ^.^

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· Chapter 1. I don't know … I'd played Ascension, thought it was cool, was a bit bored, so I put a chapter together. I had NO IDEA it would get so far! I had NO IDEA about plot, characters, ANYTHING. I'm a clueless idiot, but it's here for you to read now, so hey hey hey!

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_Remember – the sequel is called 'The Search for Paradise' by 'zootycoon346'._

_xx_


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